


The King

by Snailhair



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Cas, Death and loss, Explicit Smut, Hell, King Castiel, Louisiana, M/M, Mentions of Sabriel, Portals, Post-Apocalypse, Two Castiels, destiel smut, established Destiel, getting stuck in an alternate universe, mentions of Cas/Meg, the bunker, trying to get home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: Dean Winchester is in an intimate relationship with Castiel, his lover and best friend. They and Sam have recently freed Cas's brother, Gabriel, from captivity and the clutches of Asmodeus, who is on the run. When they finally catch up to the Knight of Hell, Dean accidentally stumbles into an alternate reality - one where Castiel is King of Hell. Together, Dean and the darker version of his boyfriend must find a way to get Dean home before it's too late.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 108
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester was not a morning person. Having to start a new day was bad enough, but to be startled from peaceful sleep by an alarm, or being shaken awake by his annoying little brother? He hated that shit. When his sleep was taken away, Dean morphed into a bear; pissed and ready to fight. From the moment he opened his eyes to when he finished drinking his coffee, there was no dealing with the grizzly hunter.

But Cas… Cas had cracked the code of how to wake Dean up without provoking his inner bear. 

It always started with a warm caress. Dean would feel Cas’s hand on his back, chest, or even the side of his neck, tracing just enough of his flesh to let him know he was being touched. Then came the lips. Dean could feel them pressing gently on certain parts of his face. He knew those lips belonged to Cas because the angel’s stubble would sometimes scrape his skin. The sensation made Dean twitch and a tiny smile often spread across his mouth. _Damn_. Being kissed like that first thing in the morning, before he even opened his eyes, was comforting and somewhat nostalgic. It was sweet and subtle; reminiscent of the way his mother used to wake him when he was only a toddler…

“Good morning, Dean.”

The depth of Cas’s calm voice greeted him early one morning. Dean knew it was early because he blinked one eye open long enough to see the glowing numbers ‘6:34’ on his bedside clock before realizing that the angel who spoke was hovering over him. Usually, Cas woke up in bed next to him – naked, of course, just the way Dean liked. But on this particular day, Cas was standing fully dressed next to Dean’s bed in the bunker, leaning down so that their faces were close in the dark. Dean blinked toward the outline of his boyfriend’s eyes, nose, and mouth, unable to think about anything other than Cas’s scent filling his lungs with each breath. 

“Mmm… Mornin’,” Dean eventually mumbled.

“I made coffee for you and Sam. Your cup is waiting for you in the kitchen,” the angel said lowly, “I plan to check on Gabriel and did not want you to worry about my absence, which is why I woke you. Forgive me. I know it is early –”

“No,” Dean interrupted groggily, shaking his head a little as he reached out to play with the end of the angel’s dangling blue tie, “’S alright, baby. I understand.”

The compassionate response seemed to mean a lot to Cas. The angel smiled a little in the glow of the nearby clock before leaning down to capture Dean’s open mouth with a kiss. Though he was half asleep, Dean reciprocated with some tongue and a deep ‘ _mmph_.’ Feeling Cas’s kiss was great, but _tasting_ Cas’s kiss was practically cosmic…

“I shall meet you in the kitchen,” Cas whispered.

He disappeared after that, leaving Dean’s hand hanging in the air and his lips tingling. Well, shit. He couldn’t go back to sleep now, especially after hearing that he had coffee waiting on him. Despite the early hour, Dean sat up, yawned, stretched, looked down to make sure he was wearing underwear – he wasn’t, and had to fish a pair of boxers off the floor to slip on – and yawned again before tossing on his robe and heading for the hall.

When Cas mentioned Gabriel, Dean knew exactly what he was talking about. A few weeks earlier, the Winchesters learned about a massive asshole named Asmodeus. The dude was some kind of Knight of Hell who had tried to take over Crowley’s throne once or something. Crowley recruited their help in hunting down and killing the bastard, but when they raided his little corner of Hell, all they found was a bunch of destroyed spell books about making a portal – and a severely traumatized archangel. Not only was Gabriel – the trickster who died helping the Winchesters stop the apocalypse – _still alive_ , but he had been trapped, tortured, and daily drained of his own grace by Asmodeus. When the Winchesters found him, Gabriel’s mouth had been sown shut and he had such terrible PTSD from his ordeal that he didn’t talk for days. It took a lot of warming up and pep talks from Sam, but Gabriel eventually started to come around.

Now that Gabriel had gained some strength and vocalization back, he was adamant that they find Asmodeus so that he could exact some revenge. Though he barely knew the trickster apart from a few conversations, Dean was a little leery about letting Gabriel dish out his just-deserts. Revenge was something he knew from experience, and it almost never worked out the way he expected. Cas and Sam both seemed equally concerned for Gabriel’s well-being – which, upon reflection, Dean found sort of odd. Sam was rarely so invested in someone else’s revenge. Seeing Gabriel in that pitiful state must have struck the kid a certain way; made him feel sorry for Gabriel or something. Regardless, the Winchesters’ current focus had shifted from solving supernatural cases around Kansas to tracking down a rogue Knight of Hell.

After living in the Men of Letters bunker for a few years, Dean was totally comfortable strolling to the kitchen in his robe and bare feet. His footsteps clacked on the stone floor as he walked down the tiled corridor, as well as announced his arrival when he made it into the kitchen. He expected the light to be on, since Cas mentioned that he made coffee. What he didn’t expect was Sam’s hunched figure sitting at the table. Dean flinched a little when he looked over to see his brother. He was tempted to ask Sam why the hell he was up so early, until he saw the dark circles around the kid’s eyes. Sammy was almost glaring at his computer screen, typing so forcefully that the poor keyboard quaked. Sam wasn’t just up early. He had been up _all night_.

“Dude,” Dean called, gaining his brother’s attention, “Have you been to bed at all?”

The harsh seriousness that had been plastered on Sam’s face faded into innocence. The kid’s weary eyes glanced between his computer and Dean before he leaned back to put his head in his hands with a sigh.

“… No,” he eventually stated.

Dean searched his brother with suspicion as he walked over to grab the steaming mug off the counter. He couldn’t remember the last time Sam was so intrigued by a case that he lost sleep over it. Come to think of it, Sam had been acting differently ever since they found Gabriel and brought him to the bunker. Dean wondered if the archangel was making Sam feel something; a certain emotion that Sam was far too stubborn to admit to having, right now. Maybe Sammy _liked_ the trickster. Of course, Dean didn’t want to point it out yet, just in case he was wrong. Besides, it was far too much fun to watch Sam deny his feelings. Dean knew all too well what it was like to come to terms with falling in love with an angel...

As if Dean’s thoughts had summoned him, Gabriel entered the room. The short archangel was now slightly more timid than his former, pre-tortured self. His hazel eyes darted all over the kitchen, as if he was making sure there were no traps that he might stumble into as he walked slowly up to the table. Dean noticed that a huge smile filled Sam’s face when the kid looked up to the trickster. Yep, Sam was smitten for sure.

In the meantime, as Dean took his first sip of perfectly brewed coffee, his attention was drawn back to the kitchen doorway, where Cas walked in behind his brother. Now that they were in the light, Dean’s eyes were treated to Cas’s familiar form. Backwards tie, tan trench coat, delicately swept raven hair, plump lips, deep ocean eyes… Dean could have happily stood there all morning just staring at his boyfriend while sipping his coffee. Cas noticed Dean’s stare and smiled sheepishly, lowering his head as he made his way to stand at the metal island near Dean.

“G – Gabe, hey,” Sam stuttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood up from the table, “Are you feeling okay? Do you want some coffee? Er, I – I know you don’t need to drink coffee, but –”

“Eh, don’t worry about me, kiddo. I’m an archangel. We rebound faster than hot chicks after a breakup,” The trickster replied, though he carefully sat down on the seat across from Sam like he was still anxious about his surroundings. “Did you find anything?”

A look of pride flashed on Sam’s face as he grabbed his laptop and spun it around to face Gabriel. Dean glanced at the screen for himself and found two tabs open; one with a map and one with Latin texts.

“I used some of the pieces of the spell books we found to trace the text back to its original source, in ancient Europe. Someone named ‘Kendrick’ made a deal with a demon to secure blueprints for making a portal to –” 

“Blah, blah, blah, blah,” Gabe interrupted, waving a hand in aggravation, “Nobody cares about the history lesson, kid. Just tell me where Asmodeus is so I can rip his Kentucky-fried ass apart.”

Though he was a little bummed about not being able to finish his story, Sam gulped down the rest of his research and pointed to a specific spot on the map on the screen.

“Eunice, Louisiana,” Sam answered.

“He’s on Earth? Not in Hell?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. See, it sounds like the portal he’s trying to make has to be built in a specific location, so that it will join the other side in the exact same spot,” Sam explained.

“In Louisiana? What, did he want to join a quick Mardi Gras parade first?” Dean scoffed. He was attempting to lighten the mood with a joke, but as usual, no one found it funny.

“What does he need this portal for?” Cas asked, “Where is he planning to – ?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel blurted, glaring at the screen, “None of it matters, because we’re going to kill the bastard. Today. Right now. Let’s go.”

Dean and Sam shared a concerned glance with each other as the archangel got up from the table. The trickster was so set on his revenge that he was willing to walk blindly into danger. Dean was guilty of doing the same in the past, but he had learned from his mistakes.

“Gabriel, we need to talk about this first.”

The look the archangel gave Dean was nearly lethal.

“Sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of _my own screams still echoing in my mind_ ,” the archangel almost shouted, voice tainted with acidic sarcasm as he scowled at Dean, “Every. Day. I was tortured, beaten, humiliated, drained of my own grace. _Every day_. _For five years_. You can’t even begin to imagine the amount of rage coursing through my veins right now. I am going to kill that son of a bitch with or without your help! So if you’re not going to help, _then get the hell out of my way!_ ”

Gabriel’s voice rang in Dean’s ears and made him flinch. He felt terrible instantly but was unable to come up with any reasonable response. How was he supposed to reply to that? Even Cas, Gabe’s own brother, seemed at a loss for words. Sam, however, was able to calm Gabriel down with the slightest gesture. He stepped over to carefully rest one of his large hands on Gabe’s shoulder, and the physical contact eased the archangel’s tension. Gabriel’s posture lowered, his jaw released, and his eyes flickered toward Sam.

“Gabe,” the kid gently hummed, “We’re going to get him. Cas can fly us to Eunice, we’ll track him down, and then you’ll get to fry him… But we have to find him first, okay? Please, let us help you.”

Dean gulped, knowing there wasn’t anything else he could add. Luckily, Sammy had done a pretty good job on his own. For some reason, Gabriel only wanted to listen to Sam anyway. Though he was still visibly pissed, the archangel shrugged out from under Sam’s hand and plopped himself back at the table. Both Winchester brothers took a deep breath afterward, sharing a look of relief. Gabriel was still healing from his half-decade long ordeal, so his grace wasn’t strong enough to fly or cause much damage yet. But, damn, he was scary when he was pissed…

“I’ll, uh, go suit up and pack some essentials,” Dean suggested, taking a quick sip from his coffee before putting it down to start for the hall, “Sammy, get your stuff together. Be ready to roll out of here in twenty minutes, okay? Gabriel’s got a point. We can’t let that demon finish whatever he’s doing.”

Sam nodded, looking like death warmed over. Dean hated knowing that the kid was exhausted, but Sam appeared willing to get on with the day despite his sleepless night. He even offered to get Gabriel food as Dean was on his way out of the kitchen. Dean watched their interaction – noticing that Gabriel’s voice was warmer when he spoke to Sam, and that Sam lingered around Gabe’s side for much longer than necessary – before ducking down the hall to head back to his bedroom.

The distance between Kansas and Louisiana might have been huge on a map, but the Winchesters could get there in the blink of an eye with Cas’s grace. And that made packing a little difficult. Would Dean need overnight clothes? Would they be traveling back and forth to the bunker if they needed things? What if they got stranded and didn’t have the Impala? Maybe they needed to take the Impala just in case. Dean thought about all of this as he made it to his room to get dressed. It wasn’t until he was halfway through changing his underwear that he noticed Cas had followed him in. The sight of the angel standing so close surprised him.

“Geez, babe,” he huffed, shaking his head with a smile, “I didn’t even hear you come in… What’s wrong?”

When Dean properly looked into his boyfriend’s eyes, he noticed the seriousness in them. Cas glanced down at the floor before stepping closer to reach out and take Dean’s hand. The sensation of Cas’s finger’s intertwining his own gave Dean goosebumps and made him squeeze back.

“Dean, I… I just want to… Thank you,” Cas nearly whispered, finally raising his head to meet Dean’s stare, “I know that you have never been on good terms with my brother. But the fact that you have put aside the past to help him through this traumatic event… I can’t properly state how much it means to me… How much _you_ mean to me…”

Dean’s heart tingled in his chest. Even though he and Cas had been in an intimate relationship for going on a year and a half, Dean would never get used to the sentimental and loving things the guy said to him. Cas was so good to him that it was almost unbelievable. The man reached up to cup angel’s cheek with his free hand and Cas tilted his head to kiss the edge of Dean’s thumb, which caused even more chills to race over his body. He might have been holding Cas, but Dean was the one turning into putty.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Cas,” Dean suddenly said, verbalizing his thoughts, “Besides, your brother has earned the right to some justice. No one should go through what he went through… And, for the record, if anyone deserves some appreciation for helping brothers, it’s you. You’ve fought beside me and Sam and saved him so many times – _I’m_ the one that should be saying ‘Thank you.’ So… Thank you, babe. It’s time for me to return the favor.”

For a second, it looked like Dean had slapped Cas rather than gave him a compliment. The angel’s blue eyes were wide, his mouth was open, and he didn’t blink once. Dean quickly cycled through what he just said in his mind to make sure he didn’t accidently say something offensive, just in case he needed to apologize. Luckily, Cas lunged forward to seize his mouth with a kiss, confirming that he was grateful. Dean closed his eyes and enjoyed the lustful embrace, dropping his hands to grab hold of Cas’s hips while their tongues swam laps together. He tugged Cas’s front against his own, feeling the pulse of arousal shoot to his own dick. If Dean was a poet, he could write thousands of sonnets about Cas’s hips alone...

As Dean started to seriously debate tossing Cas on the bed to have his way with him, a few anxious knocks came from Dean’s bedroom door. Dean groaned in irritation as he forced himself to pull his tongue out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

“What?” he nearly barked.

“Gabriel’s threatening to take the Impala for himself. Just wanted to warn you,” Sammy’s muffled voice called.

Dean closed his eyes to keep from rolling them. Gabriel may have been the victim of some unspeakable things, but his trickster side had clearly remained intact.

“Hide the keys. I’m almost done,” Dean replied.

He looked back down into Cas’s sapphire eyes afterward, briefly swaying with him as they stared at each other.

“I was gonna lay you down on the bed and slide between those heavenly thighs of yours, but I guess it will have to wait until later,” Dean admitted softly.

Cas’s smile lit up the whole room.

“Perhaps we can make it a rainy day fund,” the angel said.

It took Dean a second, but he eventually realized –

“You mean a raincheck?”

“… Um… Yes,” Cas muttered bashfully.

Dean tossed his head back to laugh for a second, enjoying the hilariousness of Cas’s lack of human knowledge. Afterward, he leaned down to kiss the angel again, pecking his moist lips over and over.

“I love you so much, Cas,” he slurred.

Cas pressed a kiss to Dean’s lips, embracing them for several seconds while he circled both arms around Dean’s neck to hug him.

“I love you too, Dean.”

* * *

To get ready for the possible faceoff with Asmodeus, Dean armed himself with an angel blade, his favorite 9mm pistol, the demon knife, a small vial of holy water, plus one of his thickest jackets. The Winchesters weren’t sure what to expect when they arrived, so Dean tried to prepare for anything. Gabriel might not have been able to use his grace much, but Cas had full range. Dean’s boyfriend became the most valuable team player by default – which would probably make him the biggest target, and Dean was not okay with that. So, to counter the inevitable target placed on Cas’s back, Dean made sure to keep himself out in front of the group when they arrived on the scene.

When Cas flew Dean, Sam, and Gabriel from the bunker to Eunice, the four of them popped up in front of a corner theater that had the words ‘Liberty Center’ wrapped around the front. The town itself was mostly dead, which made sense as it was still super early in the morning. A few cars puttered by as Dean turned to face his hunting party. Cas was already keeping an eye out, scanning the area with narrowed sight. Gabriel, still impatient as ever, instantly spun in circles with his head down and angel blade drawn, ready and willing to jump at the first opportunity to kill his former captor. Sam was looking down at his phone, studying the map he had transferred from his computer.

“Where is the bastard? Huh? Speak up, Sam. Where is he?” Gabriel hissed.

“Uh, should be in this area,” Sam answered, wandering closer to the theater, “The map doesn’t have specific coordinates. We’ll probably have to look around and ask some locals if they’ve seen anything.”

“There’s no need.”

Dean joined his brother in looking to Cas, who was pivoted toward the left. The angel raised his hand to point toward the alley between the theater and the building next to it.

“I sense a demonic presence,” Cas explained.

Before Dean could even open his mouth to ask a question, Gabriel took off running with his blade drawn. Dean and Sam instantly sprang into action, chasing after the trickster to stop him. Sammy was able to reach him first. The tall kid grabbed the collar of the archangel’s jacket and yanked him against the nearest brick wall, pinning him there with one long arm.

“Dammit, Gabe, are you crazy?! You can’t just run in like that! It could be a trap!” Sam panted with fear.

“Get your giant moose paws off me,” Gabriel grunted, struggling to pull himself out of Sam’s hold, “That bastard is mine, do you hear me?! No one is gonna kill him but me!”

“Listen, pipsqueak. If you can’t keep yourself in check, Cas is gonna fly you back to the bunker and leave you there,” Dean warned. “I get it. You want to make him suffer like he made you suffer. But you’re not the only person here. Running in like that puts everyone at risk. Do you want Asmodeus to take Cas?” Dean paused to point a finger to his boyfriend before spinning it to his brother. “Do you want him to take _Sam_?”

Gabriel’s glare lightened instantly, and he stopped pushing against Sam’s hold to give the kid a timid glance.

“Work with us, man. Use your head,” Dean concluded.

The archangel huffed a breath but remained in place when Sam let him go.

“Fine… But _I_ get to kill him. That’s the deal,” Gabe demanded.

“Deal,” Dean agreed.

The man reached around to take the demon knife out of his waistband before nodding to Cas. At the signal, the blue-eyed angel stepped over to peer around the corner of the building.

“Five demons. Four keeping watch. Two on top of the building, two near the demon in the middle,” Cas relayed.

“Is one of them wearing a dumbass white suit?” Gabe asked.

“Yes,” Cas answered, “He is at the center, performing a spell or summons.”

“That’s him,” Gabriel confirmed grimly, angrily setting his jaw, “The asshole that tortured me…”

Sam and Dean shared a look with each other, one that Dean recognized from childhood. Sammy was cool on the surface but scared underneath, probably worried that something would go wrong or someone would end up hurt. Dean did his best to assure his little brother with a confident nod.

“I say we go in swinging,” Dean carefully suggested, “Cas, you take the lookouts on the roof. Sammy, you and I will get the bodyguards. Gabe,” he paused to look directly at the archangel, “Asmodeus is all yours.”

Gabriel lowered his head and finally smiled – a wicked smile, full of vengeance – as he raised up his own blade. With the plan set, Dean turned to look at Cas again. The angel seemed less than enthusiastic about the situation but agreed to go along with it. The two of them shared one last, loving look before Cas disappeared; flying up to take out the demons on the roof.

“Let’s move,” Dean called over his shoulder.

For Dean, it was almost a routine event. He rushed the nearest demon, shoved it up against the wall, and stabbed it before it even had time to alert the others. The life flickered out of its face in seconds as it groaned, and Dean made sure it was fully dead before letting it go. Sammy did the same behind him, clearing the way for Gabriel to charge at Asmodeus in the middle.

But just as the dead demon slipped off the end of Dean’s blade, he caught sight of Gabriel flying through the air. Asmodeus had turned around and used some unseen power to fling him back, tossing Gabriel into Sam and knocking both of them to the ground. Though he knew that Gabriel wanted to kill the knight himself, Dean saw the opportunity to end the violence and took it; throwing his bloodied knife toward Asmodeus’s back. The blade, however, stopped abruptly in midair and fell to the ground, leaving the knight to turn around and smirk wildly at Dean.

“I was wonderin’ when you little boys would show up,” the demon said, his southern accent so thick that Dean could barely understand him, “Tell me… Dean… Did y’all come all the way here just to kill me? Seems like an awful lotta work just for a little _revenge_ , don’t it?”

Gabriel suddenly hopped up and ran at the demon with a shout, raising his angel blade up in a stabbing position. Instead of tossing him away again, Asmodeus used his power to hold Gabriel in place instead, choking him. Gabriel dropped his blade, letting it clank on the concrete below as he struggled to breathe.

“Well, well. If it ain’t my prized cow,” the demon purred, “I broke you once, boy. Looks like I’ll have to do it again.”

The words must have outraged Sam, because the kid suddenly charged at Asmodeus. He was so quick that the demon barely had time to drop Gabriel and duck out of the way. Sam’s lunge caught the sleeve of his white suit jacket and sliced it open, cutting him in the process… But then, Asmodeus was able to grab Sam and hold a knife to his throat.

The fight stopped once the demon had Sammy hostage. Gabriel and Dean both froze, not wanting anything to happen to Sam. Cas appeared at Dean’s side as they all paused, unable to do anything but glare at the demon who had one of their own.

“You boys listen here, and you listen good,” Asmodeus began, “A portal is fixin’ to appear behind me in less than a minute. I intend to go through that portal and never come back. I got dealin’s on the other side. Now, you came here to get rid of me, right? So how ‘bout this… You let me go through that portal, safe and sound, I’ll let ya have your buddy back, and we can pretend none of this ever happened.”

“ _Hell no! You die, here and now!_ ” Gabriel shouted. 

“Ah-ah-ah,” Asmodeus said, tightening his hold on Sam’s neck and making him squeak, “If you try to kill me, I’m takin’ this young’in with me…”

A few seconds passed in which Dean tried to come up with a solution. How was he going to get Sam away from the demon? How was he going to stop Gabriel from overreacting? Would it be easier to let the asshole go through the portal like he wanted? What if he was lying, and intended to take Sam with him to God-only-knew where?

A flash of light came from behind Asmodeus, which Dean assumed was the portal opening, and he used the distraction as his chance to strike. When everyone flinched at the portal’s arrival, Dean sprinted forward with a shoulder down, tackling the demon in the side. Asmodeus finally let Sam go as he collided with the ground and Sam was able to roll to safety.

But when Dean got close to the portal, he felt an orbital tug pulling him toward it. The portal itself was a huge floating crack in the middle of the air that seemed to be sucking everything nearby inward. Dean struggled to get away from the pull, digging his boots into the ground and flailing his arms. Shit, he was getting reeled in like a fish! He couldn’t fight against it!

“Cas!” Dean called in a panic.

The worried angel – who had been in the middle of holding his brother back from Asmodeus – looked up just in time to see Dean being pulled away and flashed over to reach out his hand. Dean reached out for Cas’s too, but they never found each other. They missed as Dean was yanked backward. Instead, Dean grabbed hold of the nearest thing he could grasp, which happened to be the strap from Cas’s trench coat. It unwound from around the angel’s torso as Dean was finally ripped away from his family in the alley.

The last thing Dean remembered was the look of terror on Cas’s face and the sound of the angel desperately calling his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! If you are new, welcome to the party! I hope you like what’s ahead! :D If you’re one of the amazing people who always keeps up with me, long time no see! :D Wait, what? It’s only been like a month? Geez, 2020 is taking its sweet time, isn’t it? XD I hope you enjoyed this story’s opening. (Do you know how strange and uncomfortable it feels to write Cas as Dean’s boyfriend instead of his husband? Just one of the many ways that the Purpose Series has ruined me.) XD This story will be dealing with some dark subject matter, though I will try to keep it as light as possible. It’s kind of a twisted take on the ‘AU’ territory. ;) It will be a stand-alone fic, so no extra parts are in the works. (You’ll probably thank me for that later. Lol) ;D More of the character's backgrounds will be explained in the next chapter. There’s not much else I can say without spoilers, so, I hope you stick around to see the new chapter next week! :D 
> 
> So, um, Shameless plug time. (Feel free to stop reading here if you aren’t concerned. Lol)
> 
> In between writing fanfic, I have actually written and (finally) self-published my first book! :D It is called “The Cotton Candy Man,” and it’s available on Amazon now. If you couldn’t tell from the title, it is HEAVILY inspired by Sabriel. There are many Sabriel/Supernatural easter eggs in the story, like the fact that Robbie’s second job is being a Janitor, like Gabe’s was in Tall Tales. (In fact, Dickie himself makes a cameo.) XD It’s an emotional read, but totally worth it if you can make it to the end. :) Of course, it’s not exactly Sabriel, but they were my motivation. If you’re interested or want more information, here is a link: 
> 
> https://www.amazon.com/Cotton-Candy-Man-Kayla-Donell-ebook/dp/B089Y996SQ/
> 
> I just wanted to let you guys know that it is a thing that exists. I’m pretty proud of it. If I could, I would give every single one of you a free copy, because you have been my biggest supporters and I owe you so much! Alas, I don’t have the angel grace to do that. :( But I hope that if you get the chance to read the book, you can brag to others that you helped make it happen. Because you did! If it wasn’t for your comments and encouragement, I probably would have stopped writing a long time ago and never realized my dream. :) I can’t thank you enough! :D Love you guys! Chapter two of ‘The King’ will be out soon! :)


	2. Chapter 2

When Dean thudded on solid ground, he immediately scrambled backward, hoping to get back through the portal before it closed off. But by the time he dove toward it, it vanished before his eyes, sending him toppling to the ground again. An eerie silence was left in its place, with only a wisp of wind to keep him company. Panic was threatening to overpower him, but he forced himself to stay calm. The words of his long-dead father kicked in like a mantra in his mind. ‘ _Panicking doesn’t help anybody, Dean. Keep your cool. Use your head. Watch your back_.’ 

Dean’s first objective was to search his surroundings to make sure he was safe. He did a quick scan of the place. It was dusty, filthy, and gray, reminiscent of Purgatory. But he recognized nearby street signs and old cars. It looked like he was in an altered version of the place he just came from. It was the same alley, but disfigured and dilapidated. The buildings on either side of him had been blown to pieces, leaving only mounds of broken bricks. A few cars in the street were overturned and somewhat rusted, as if they had been left that way for a while. The sky above was severely overcast, making everything look dark and bland. And there was a bad smell in the air, like burned rubber mixed with roadkill.

For one desperate second as he stared out at the destruction ahead, Dean thought that maybe Cas could still fly to him. Angels could go between Heaven, Earth, and Hell, right? Cas might be able to hear him call and find him. He always did…

“Cas?”

Dust swirled around Dean, but there was no sign of the handsome angel in the trench coat.

“ _Cas_?” Dean called again. A little louder, this time. 

Still nothing. Dean’s heart hammered in his chest as he glanced down to see Cas’s coat strap still in his hand. The long piece of fabric suddenly was the most precious thing in his possession. It was the only familiar thing he had in this strange new land, and it was bound to be his best companion until he made it back to the person it belonged to. To keep it safe, Dean quickly slid up his jacket sleeve and started wrapping it around his forearm. He kept a look out as he worked, making sure that he wasn’t being sneaked up on in the process. He used his mouth and right hand to tie it off at the end, after which he slid his sleeve back over it protectively and reached to get the pistol out of his waistband.

His gun had a full magazine, which consisted of 10 rounds. His demon knife was gone; dropped by Asmodeus on the other side of that damn portal. But he still had an angel blade at his back. When he ran out of bullets, he would at least have a melee weapon. That and his fists, which had come in handy countless times.

With his gun at the ready, Dean carefully started to ease toward the street. The good thing about the world looking similar was that Dean knew where he was. He was on Earth, in Eunice, Louisiana. It just wasn’t the same version. Everything must have been in the same place – which meant the bunker was still in Lebanon, Kansas. With any luck, Dean could make it there and hide out while he tried to find a way back to his family. There had to be something in the bunker, a book or ritual box, that would be able to open a portal, right? At the moment, it was Dean’s only lead. The only thing he had to do now was find a working vehicle to get there.

Dean raised the hem of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose as he crept along, trying to filter out the stench as he breathed. At the edge of the nearest pile of bricks, Dean caught sight of an old truck on the other side of the street. It looked to be in usable condition, as long as no one else was around to claim it. Dean’s head was on a swivel as he cautiously jogged out into the road. Along the way, however, he noticed two figures wandering around in the dusty air to his left. They were talking lowly and laughing, which made Dean think they were friendly. He couldn’t see any weapons on them, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have any. Dean was tempted to call out to ask what the hell happened to this place and if he really was in Eunice, and maybe ask where the nearest gas station was. But he decided against it. They may have been locals, but he had seen enough horror movies – and lived enough of his own life – to know that interacting with strangers in a foreign place was a dumb move. Self-reliance had saved his life plenty of times.

Keeping to his task, Dean finally made it all the way to the truck and looked through the driver’s side window. He almost recoiled in disgust and terror when he saw the corpse laying across the front seat. It was a man well past bloating and rigor mortis; stiff and nearly mummified. The face was shriveled and blackened, unrecognizable. But as Dean looked away, he saw a key in the ignition. A few seconds passed in which Dean debated on whether or not to shove the dead body from the truck and take it. _If_ the truck had gas and _if_ it started up, the sound would undoubtedly gain the attention of the nearby strangers. But from the looks of his surroundings, it might be awhile before he found another working vehicle in such good shape.

Unfortunately, Dean didn’t get to make a decision either way. Hurried footsteps were suddenly coming toward him and he looked over just in time to see the two strangers dashing toward him. Dean raised his gun, knowing that the sight of a weapon would stop them. Except it didn’t. They ran full speed at him; so quick that he didn’t even have time to back up. He shot his gun once, nicking one in the shoulder. But the person acted as though he wasn’t hurt at all. They were right in front of Dean in seconds.

“Looks like we found ourselves a fighter,” one cooed.

“Yeah, he thinks he’s pretty tough,” the other said, “What’s the matter, big guy? Afraid of catching a cold?”

Before Dean could react, one of them reached out and yanked his shirt away from his face. Once they saw him, the smiles on the mens’ faces disappeared. They must have known who he was.

“Shit. It’s another one,” the first hissed.

Dean narrowed his eyes. Another one? What the hell did he mean? Another man? Another hunter?

“Should we kill it ourselves, or take it to the king?”

“We’d better take it to him. You remember what happened the last time somebody did it themselves,” the other said grimly.

“I’m not going anywhere with you bastards,” Dean denied calmly.

The second man smiled and blinked, revealing jet black eyes and a devilish look.

“We weren’t asking, princess.”

Shit. The strangers weren’t men. They were _demons_. Pissed and annoyed, Dean reached up to slide another bullet into the chamber of his gun, but the first stranger blew dust in Dean’s face. He breathed it in before he had time to even recognize what was happening and instantly felt faint. As his sight began to blur, he noticed a black bandana being produced before it was wrapped around his eyes. The gun fell out of Dean’s weak grasp and clanked to the ground as his legs finally gave out and his front met the concrete hard.

* * *

The next thing Dean recalled was the faint stench of brimstone. It was so nauseating that it woke him up from his darkened slumber, though, he couldn’t open his eyes. They were covered by the bandana tied around his head. He could feel his boots dragging the ground, as he was being carted by the arms. Most of his body was aching and he felt like flexing to relieve the strain, but he didn’t. He remembered the demons and didn’t want to alert them to the fact that he was awake.

Shit. He should have known better than to get caught like that. What the hell was he going to do now? He had no idea how many enemies surrounded him, or even where he was. As he pondered on what to do, the term ‘king’ resurfaced in Dean’s mind and he felt a little better. If he was being handled by demons and they were taking him to their so-called king, then he knew he was heading for Crowley. Granted, Crowley wasn’t the greatest ally to him or Sam, but the British bastard could be reasoned with. Though, obviously this was a different world than the one Dean was used to. Did the demons take Dean to Hell, somehow? What would this different version of Crowley think of Dean? What if he was against him, and wanted nothing more than to kill him? Dean struggled to think of something he could use to convince Crowley to help him. ‘ _If you help me get to the bunker and open a portal, I’ll let you come with me_. _It’s way better over there than it is here_.’ That sounded crazy, but maybe it would work.

“Is the king here?”

Dean listened closely to the people carrying him, trying to figure out where he was going.

“Throne room,” a new voice said.

Throne room? Oh, they were definitely in Hell. Crowley spent most of his time stuck up on that little throne of his. Dean continued to be dragged for several minutes, passing various groups of chattering demons until he heard a set of heavy doors ‘thunk’ open. The loud sound made him flinch a little bit, but no one noticed him move.

“Sir. We caught another one.”

Dean listened, prepared to hear Crowley say something witty or demeaning. But the voice that came sounded nothing like Crowley. It was much deeper, stoic, and so familiar that Dean almost gasped out loud.

“Where did you find it?”

Dean knew that voice! He would know that voice anywhere! _It was Cas!_ But that was impossible! Cas couldn’t be here, could he?!

“Louisiana,” a demon answered.

“Cas?!” Dean blurted, unable to contain his enthusiasm, “Cas, is that you? Babe, it’s me! It’s Dean!”

Instead of getting a reply, Dean’s arms were released. His chest hit the stone floor and nearly knocked the wind out of him. But he was able to scramble up to a kneeling position. Before he could reach up to pull down his blindfold to see if it was really Cas – a large, sharp object plunged deep into Dean’s chest cavity. He felt it pierce his skin and slide between his ribs, slicing everything inside. Dean tried to gasp at the painful sensation, but his lungs were instantly filled with blood. He was suddenly drowning, gasping for air as blood bubbled up from his throat. Despite his earlier determination not to panic, Dean flailed instantly as he gurgled on his own blood, reaching up to take hold of the sleeved arm that held the blade in his chest. No, he couldn’t die like this! Not _here_! Dean had to make it back to Cas and Sammy! 

While Dean struggled to breathe, the blindfold was suddenly ripped away from his face and he was able to see who had stabbed him. Castiel was standing there like a statue with Dean clutching his arm. The trench coat and dark hair were dead giveaways, but he was different than Dean remembered. Cas’s blue tie was gone, his clothes were dirty and faded, and his eyes – the same sapphires that Dean adored so much – were void of all emotion. At least, they were at first. The moment he looked down and met eyes with Dean, however, utter shock quickly flashed over his face. The angel reached down to clutch Dean’s bloody chin and tilt his head up, quickly searching Dean’s blinking eyes as his mouth slowly fell open.

As if he realized he made a terrible mistake, Cas instantly pulled the blade back out of Dean’s chest and replaced it with his glowing hand. Dean’s head dropped to watch Cas’s grace work and could feel his sliced insides being healed. The blood emptied from his lungs and he was finally able to breathe again. When Cas’s glow faded, Dean leaned back on his bent knees and panted, trying to catch the breath that had been stolen from him. He couldn’t believe that Cas had stabbed him! Why would he do that, even after Dean said who he was?! The fact that Cas healed him seemed to stun all the demons. They all stepped forward with suspicion in their eyes.

“Hey. What’d you do that for?”

“What’s the matter with you, boss?!”

“Kill it! Or it will kill us all!”

“ _Silence._ ”

Cas’s deep, booming voice caused the entire room to fall completely still. Even Dean hunkered down as a precaution. The stoic dominance in Cas’s presence left no room for debate.

“You,” Cas barked, pointing to a random demon, “Lock him in my quarters. Now.”

Dean blinked up at Cas in shock. Quarters? No, Dean didn’t want to be locked up! He wanted answers! He wanted help getting home! The demon walked over, grabbed Dean by the arm, and pulled him up to his feet.

“No, wait, Cas,” Dean called as he was being pulled away, “I need to talk to you! Hey! I need to get home! _Cas!_ ”

Dean’s anxious shouts were mostly ignored, as Cas turned to speak to a guard standing near the black throne. Just before Dean was pulled completely out of the room, he noticed Cas’s eyes flicker toward him and the authority in them briefly faded. For a second, Cas almost looked worried.

But then, the doors slammed in Dean’s face and he was being yanked through a corridor full of demons. He glanced around at them all in anger, feeling the urge to retrieve the angel blade from his waistband and slaughter them all. He could feel that the blade was still there, getting jostled with each of his footsteps. But he didn’t make a move. He knew that he was highly outnumbered and would be overrun in no time. Besides, he was being taken to Cas’s quarters. That was bound to be a safe place, right? Dean was surprised that Cas had his own private place in Hell. Wait, didn’t the demons call him ‘the king’? Was _Cas_ the king of Hell? What happened to Crowley? As they turned a corner, Dean eyed the demon who held his arm.

“What happened to Crowley?” he blatantly asked.

The demon only glared at him before shoving him ahead. Dean stumbled forward into a room, barely catching his balance on a nearby desk. He turned around to look at the demon, who was already closing the door behind him.

“Keep your mouth shut, or I’ll kill you myself,” the demon warned.

With a loud ‘slam,’ Dean was alone in the new room. It was mostly dark, only lit by a few candles scattered throughout the place. Dean looked around, noticing a few things that didn’t seem like they belonged in Hell. A few old paintings, dried up flowers in a vase, a large sculptured hand that looked like it was broken from a bigger piece. There was even a jar of honey sitting on the same desk that Dean had stumbled into. The man carefully picked up the jar to look it over, watching the amber liquid cling to the honeycomb inside. This was definitely Cas’s room. The dude loved bees...

Dean placed the jar back on the desk to look around some more. There were no windows. The walls were painted black, making the room look incredibly tiny. It seemed more like a storage unit rather than a king’s quarters. Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to get out. The only means of escape was a locked door with a guard standing watch on the other side. The floor and ceiling were both made of stone, so no digging or crawling out. At least this room smelled better. Less like brimstone and more like the gentle musk of night air and springtime. More like Dean’s beloved soulmate...

A small gust of air breezed through the room, flickering the candles around Dean. The man spun to see Castiel standing near the door with an angel blade at the ready. He was holding it toward Dean like he didn’t trust him, prepared to harm him if necessary. In the bright candlelight, Dean could see that this wasn’t exactly the Cas he knew. With his blue tie missing, his white shirt partially unbuttoned, coat dirty, and eyes full of suspicion, this Cas seemed angrier and more dangerous. The angel stepped closer, his sight zeroed in on Dean’s eyes, staring into the man’s soul.

“Geez. What’s with the hostility, man?” Dean breathed, raising his hands up to show he wasn’t a threat. “You mind telling me why we’re in Hell? And why you’re the King of – ?”

“ _No,_ ” Cas barked, raising his blade higher. “I will have answers first. Who are you? How did you get here and why? Answer me. Now.”

Dean gulped, unprepared for how sexy Cas sounded when he used a dominant voice.

“Uhh, I fell through a portal,” Dean quickly answered. “Asmodeus, he – he’s a knight of Hell. Sam and I tracked him to Louisiana. He was trying to get away from us, so he made a portal or something, but I was the one that fell through it.”

“That is impossible. Power like that doesn’t exist anymore,” Cas hissed, narrowing his eyes. “Understand that if you lie to me again, I _will_ kill you.”

“I’m not lying!” Dean exclaimed, voice higher than intended.

Cas only tightened his grip on his blade.

“Prove it,” he demanded.

Dean paused for a second, caught off guard. Prove it? How the hell was Dean supposed to prove that he came through a portal if it wasn’t there anymore?! Maybe this Cas needed some other type of proof; something that undeniably came from the other side. Dean patted down all his pockets, searching for anything that might be suitable, and felt his cell phone in his pocket. A grin flashed on his face as he dug it out and swiped it on with Cas watching the whole time. A picture of Cas – _his_ Cas, the one back home who was probably worried sick at the moment – was his background photo. The sight of his precious angel smiling so sweetly briefly broke Dean’s heart. But he didn’t let it stop him. He quickly clicked on the gallery and swiped through some photos, holding the screen up for King Cas to see.

“H – here, look. See that bookshelf behind Sam?” Dean asked as he pointed to the picture. “That’s the library at the Men of Letters bunker, where we live. Me, you, and Sam. I mean, not _you_ but the _other_ you… and look,” Dean said, swiping to the next photo. “Here’s the Impala. And this one –”

Dean gasped and quickly pulled his phone back to swipe through the next several photos, because they were all racy pictures of his boyfriend in various poses. A close up of Cas biting his lip, one of Cas curled to the side with his shirt open, one of Cas bending over to take his pants off, one of him smirking in mid-step while wearing nothing but a black thong. They were some of Dean’s favorite pictures, but he wasn’t about to let ‘King Cas’ see any of them. The thought of him and Dean being in a relationship might traumatize the guy or something. Dean’s face was as red as a stop sign by the time he got to the next decent picture.

“A – and, uh,” Dean coughed before holding the pic toward Cas again, “Here’s one of me and Sam getting burgers at a bar in –”

“Stop,” the king warned, shaking his head, “Photos are not reliable. They can be falsified and doctored. I want real proof. Something tangible.”

Dean was tempted to say, ‘ _I’m tangible! And I’m standing right in front of you!_ ’ But he held his tongue. If Cas wanted proof, he would do his best to provide. He stuck his phone back in his pocket before patting his body again. His gun was gone – dropped when those demons caught him, which pissed him off because it was his favorite 9mm. But the angel blade was still at his back.

“What about this, huh?” Dean asked.

He pulled the blade out and safely held both the handle and the sharp end so that Cas could see it. The angel blinked at it and took a step closer, his eyebrows knitting as he inspected it.

“Wh – where did you get that?” the king asked.

“This one? I don’t know. You – I mean, _Cas_ gave it to me, I think. My Cas. Back home,” Dean explained. “Why? It’s just an angel blade – ”

“No,” Cas breathed, reaching out to gently take it from Dean and gaze at it in wonder, “… It is _my_ angel blade…”

Dean swallowed hard as his eyes dropped back to the chrome weapon in Cas’s hand. He had no idea that angel blades belonged to specific angels. If Dean knew that it was Cas’s assigned blade, he would have taken much better care of it the whole time… As Dean’s sight wandered down to stare at King Cas’s missing tie, he remembered something else important.

“I have this, too.”

Dean quickly rolled up his jacket sleeve, revealing the strap of Cas’s coat tied around his forearm. Cas gave the angel blade back to Dean before reaching down to touch the end of the strap. He used his other hand to grab his own strap and hold it up, studying the two ends next to each other. The blade and the strap must have finally been enough to convince the king that Dean was telling the truth.

“… You said you came through a portal?” he carefully allowed.

“Yes,” Dean exhaled with a nod. “Asmodeus was trying to get here for some reason, but I fell through instead. Please, Cas, you’ve got to help me get back there. You and Sam – I mean, _my_ Cas and Sam are back there with that douchebag. We can’t let Asmodeus hurt them.”

Cas glanced up at Dean before crossing his arms. His own angel blade stuck out of the bend of his elbow as he stared, though his eyes had grown much softer. Almost sympathetic.

“I don’t know about your plane of existence, but here, Asmodeus is dead,” the angel stated lowly, voice full of sorrow “… and so are you.”

It felt like all the air escaped Dean’s lungs. Dead? Dean was _dead_ in this reality? Wow, that sucked. How did he die? What about Sammy? Was he still alive? If so, where was he? Dean wanted to ask it all out loud, but Cas’s stern face silenced him.

“You came from a different world. An altered version of this one,” Cas assumed. “Tell me, what became of Michael and Lucifer there?”

Though Dean’s mind was still struggling to cope with everything going on, he tried his best to focus on the question.

“Michael and Lucifer? They’re in the cage together, in Hell,” Dean answered. “Sam and I tossed them in together. Well, Adam was involved, too. You know, our half-brother? He said yes to Michael and Sam said yes to Lucifer, but we got Sammy back out of the cage. I think Adam is still Michael’s meatsuit, though. I don’t know, man. That was so long ago.”

“Long ago?” Cas breathed. “How long?”

“Uh, like, five years? Something like that. Things are different, now. You and me and Sam, we live in a Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas. We’re hunters, and –” Dean stopped short. He was going to mention the fact that he and Cas were a couple who had a very intimate relationship, but he realized that now probably wasn’t the time to bring that up. Instead, he quickly scrambled for something else to say. “… and we solve cases together. But Michael and Lucifer, they’re still locked up, as far as I know… Why? What happened here? How did I… die?”

It was such a strange thing to ask. Part of Dean didn’t even want to know, but he felt he needed to hear it, that way he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Cas finally put his blade away, tucking it back into his coat sleeve where he always kept it. Then, he glanced to the floor and grimaced as if the memory haunted him before raising his eyes to Dean.

“Adam did not say yes to Michael… _You_ did,” Cas began in a growl, “and after you allowed him to take you, Sam saw no point in fighting, so he followed your lead and said yes to Lucifer.”

“ _No_ ,” Dean breathed.

Holy shit! How could Dean ever do such a thing?! He would never do that! He would never let Sam down like that! Not in _any_ universe! Cas partially scowled at Dean.

“Yes,” the angel spat. “Michael and Lucifer fought on Earth, with you and Sam as their vessels. The destruction was catastrophic. Mankind thought the world was ending and panicked. It was an all-out nuclear war. Ninety percent of humanity was wiped from existence in a matter of days… You saw the evidence yourself, did you not?”

Dean gulped again, remembering the sight of that corpse laying in the car, surrounded by the rubble of a ruined city…

“After two weeks of fighting, Michael and Lucifer finally killed each other… taking you and Sam with them,” Cas continued solemnly. “Believe me when I say that I did _everything_ in my power to stop it. I risked my own life several times trying to free you and your brother from the clutches of those archangels. I lost most of my grace in the process… But I… I was too late…”

Cas stopped talking for a second as if the memory was too painful to put into words. Dean was stunned. Not only was he dead in this universe, but Sam was, too. Dean couldn’t imagine surviving without his little brother. Part of him was glad that they at least died together here. Luckily, his Sam was safe and sound back home. At least, Dean hoped…

In the meantime, Dean could almost feel Cas’s regret and sorrow for himself. In that moment, he wanted to walk over and wrap both arms around his angel to comfort him. He hated seeing Cas in pain, no matter what form he was in. But he didn’t want to make the king uncomfortable. For all Dean knew, this Cas probably still found human intimacy bizarre. Hoping to change the subject, Dean decided to ask some questions of his own.

“Why do those demons call you ‘king’?” he asked. “How did you become the king of Hell?”

Cas finally raised his head, regaining his stern composure.

“A short time after you and Sam passed, I found out that Crowley was responsible for telling the archangels your whereabouts. He was the reason you had to say yes… So I came down here and murdered him in front of his own people,” Cas explained calmly, as if it was a casual thing. “I have a lot of pent up aggression against Heaven. The world ended because of their selfish ambition. With Crowley’s throne vacant, I filled the position. I became king of the demons, and they do as I say. Our goal is to kill all remaining angels. I won’t stop until every last one is dead. With humanity gone, they serve no other purpose than target practice.”

Dean almost couldn’t believe the acidic words coming out of Cas’s mouth. Damn, poor Cas had to have gone through a lot to be so cruel and uncaring toward his own kin… Dean quickly picked another question from his long list.

“The demons kept calling me ‘another one,” he remembered. “What does that mean?”

This time, Cas was the one that gulped. His throat quivered and he glanced away again, seeming uncomfortable with the topic.

“Heaven is aware of what I’ve done. What I’ve become. They know about my mission to end them,” he began harshly. “Sometimes, they send me ‘gifts’ in an attempt to manipulate my emotions and weaken me. But it doesn’t work. It never has.”

“Gifts?” Dean prompted.

Cas raised his head to meet Dean’s eyes again.

“Bastardized creations. False humans. That look like you and Sam,” Cas stated. “My patrols find them on Earth. They come crawling up to me, begging for help, blaming me for their deaths, accusing me of genocide. An angel blade usually destroys them; causes them to explode. That’s why I stabbed you. When you didn’t combust, I knew –” Cas gulped, as if his voice had caught in his throat, “… I knew you might be the real thing.”

Dean was at a loss for words. He couldn’t imagine having to regularly kill twisted copies of his family like that. No wonder this Cas seemed so cold. Though his heart ached, Dean offered the angel a small smile, just to show that he didn’t hold anything against Cas for hurting him. Still, Cas seemed regretful.

“I’m sorry for stabbing you,” he muttered.

“Hey, it’s okay... I stabbed you first, remember?” Dean hummed.

He was referring to the first time they met each other, back in the barn. The thought must have touched Cas’s heart because a sincere look of awe bloomed on his face. For the first time, the king resembled the angel that Dean admired and loved.

“Yes,” he breathed, blue eyes so innocent, “That night… After I rescued you… We met in the – ”

“The barn,” Dean finished, grinning with a nod. “You strutted in like you owned the place. Blew up every lightbulb. Took the breath right out of me. Changed my life forever…” 

Dean stopped talking, afraid he might say something too romantic. The last thing he wanted to do was make Cas uncomfortable, especially since they were now on such good terms. But they continued to hold their gaze and Dean could see that the king was relaxing a bit; allowing himself to smile at Dean with genuine warmth. For a second, it almost looked like he was about to tear up…

But then, the door opened behind him. And someone else walked in.

Dean tensed immediately, unsure of who would be brave enough to just walk into a king’s quarters without knocking. The sound of heeled boots clacked into the room, escorting the curvy figure they belonged to. It only took one glance for Dean to recognize Meg. The demoness was wearing the same meatsuit he remembered from the last time he saw her; short, brunette, brown eyes, resting bitch face. Her ruby lips were turned downward when she walked up to stand next to Cas and look Dean over.

“So, this one didn’t go kaboom, huh?” she purred toward Cas.

Dean’s sight drifted to Cas and he could tell that the king had gone back into full authority mode. His shoulders were back, head was high, and the angel blade had slipped back into his grasp.

“No,” Cas answered.

“How are we going to kill it, then?” she asked.

“We aren’t,” Cas replied, making Meg briefly look at him in confusion. “I intend to interrogate this one. Gain as much information as possible.”

“Cool. Should I call the boys downstairs and have them bring up the torture rack for you?” she asked.

Dean only stood there with his mouth dangling open. How could they talk to each other so calmly about torturing him?! And why was Cas going along with it?!

“No. I shall do it myself,” Cas answered, glancing down at the woman next to him before looking back to Dean. “Wait for me outside. And spread the word that no one is to enter this room without my permission.”

“You’ve got it, tree topper,” Meg hummed.

Though he was already pretty stunned, Dean was rendered utterly paralyzed when he saw Meg suddenly stretch to the tips of her toes to press her red lips the edge of Cas’s mouth. It wasn’t a full-on kiss, just a tiny peck. But it was enough to make Dean’s blood boil as it pulsed from his clenched heart. Was Cas _with Meg_? No, he couldn’t be with her! She was a demon! She was a woman! _She wasn’t Dean_! Cas seemed indifferent to the affectionate gesture, standing completely still as it happened. The angel didn’t encourage the demon, but he didn’t stop her either.

“I’ll be in the war room,” Meg muttered.

She flashed Dean a smirk – a devious, taunting smirk – before casually walking back out of the room and shutting the door behind her. A faint smudge of red lipstick was smeared on the side of Cas’s face and Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. Even though, deep down, he knew that this version of Cas didn’t belong to him, Dean was still ragefully jealous. No one got to kiss Cas like that except for Dean!

“Y – you and Meg? You guys are – are together or something? She’s your – your queen?” Dean stammered, still blindsided by the thought.

Cas’s eyes briefly narrowed.

“There is no queen,” he answered, though he didn’t elaborate. Instead, Cas started to ease toward the door himself. “Dean, I know how resourceful you are. You could break out of this room if you really wanted to. But please, I must ask you to stay here for your own safety.”

“So you can torture me later?” Dean muttered rudely.

He didn’t mean to sound so childish. It was just his inner conflict with seeing Meg kissing Cas coming out in his voice. The angel paused at the door to give Dean the most open and genuine expression ever.

“No,” Cas answered, shaking his head once. “I would never harm you intentionally, Dean… but these demons must trust my every move. They see me as their king, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Dean was a little confused. Was Cas double crossing them or something? Why would he speak so highly of demons one moment and then trash them the next? Cas seemed to notice Dean’s apprehension and took a deep breath. He glanced down at the angel blade in his hand as he began to talk.

“Despite their best efforts to break their connection with me, I can still hear heaven’s radio. In three days’ time, they are going to attack Hell with the entire force of the second coming… and I am going to let them.”

Dean felt his mouth fall open for the second time.

“You – you’re going to let the angels destroy hell? But, I thought you hated the angels. I thought they were target practice,” Dean recalled.

“I do hate them,” Cas replied. “This place… Hell… It will be the stage for the final battle, Dean. The battle to determine which species will rule over the realms. Angels or demons. I feel I am both and neither at the same time… But it doesn’t matter. All that matters to me now is that you get back safely to your reality. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you are saved.”

Dean was pleasantly surprised by that statement. He hoped that Cas finally believed him, but to hear that the king was willing to risk his high-ranking position, armies, and kingdom just for _Dean_? Just to get Dean back to another reality? That was amazing…

“Th – thank you.” It was all Dean could say.

Cas nodded once before looking back to the angel blade in his hand. As the king reached for the door, Dean realized something that made him curious.

“Hey, Cas,” he called. “That blade in your hand. Is that one yours, too?”

Cas paused to grip the handle, his shoulders tensing as he turned to look at Dean one more time.

“No. Mine was broken long ago. This blade is Michael’s,” Cas answered, his voice dropping incredibly low. “… It’s the blade that killed you.”

The man glanced toward the chrome weapon, feeling a strange sense of unease come over him. Cas seemed to notice Dean’s distress because he raised the blade up to study the sharp edge.

“I use it to kill every angel I encounter. As retribution for it taking your life,” the king assured, blue eyes flitting back to Dean. “… I shall return to you soon, Dean.”

On that hopeful note, Cas swept out of the room and closed the door, making the lock click back into place behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. That was a boatload of exposition, huh? I’m sure it gave you a few more questions than answers, but more explanation will be along shortly. ;) In the meantime, I hope this chapter was enjoyable. :D Yes, Dean has plenty of naughty pics of Cas on his phone. He probably needs to put a lock on it. lol! XD More about King Cas and Meg’s ‘arrangement’ will be talked about in the next chapter. (Don’t worry, it’s not serious. This is a Destiel story after all.) ;D Not sure if angel blades are actually assigned to angels, but I thought it would be a nice addition to this story. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! :D The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Cas was right. Dean could break out of the room he was currently stuck in, if he really wanted to. The old-fashioned lock was easily pickable. The guard outside took turns with someone else regularly, leaving the door unoccupied for a small window of time. The metal knob and hinges didn’t make much sound. Escaping the room would be simple. But escaping Hell altogether? That was next to impossible.

The only thing Dean could really do now was wait. Cas – or, at least, the King-of-the-demons version of Cas – seemed like his only ally. From their first conversation alone, Dean knew that despite his harsh exterior, this Cas genuinely cared about Dean’s safety. Otherwise, the angel wouldn’t have healed him after stabbing him. But none of those demons were going to help, that was for damn sure. Every single one had it out for him, including Meg. Ugh, just thinking about Meg pissed Dean off all over again…

The king was gone for nearly twelve hours. Dean knew because he kept pacing and glancing at his wristwatch. The clock was set to Central Daylight Time, which was the time zone in Kansas. On Earth. Several times, his stomach gurgled with hunger, but he ignored it. Dean was no stranger to going without food for days at a time. Thirst, however, was a completely different beast. Dean’s mouth went dry soon after Cas left, and it wasn’t long before he broke down and drank some of the holy water he had stashed in his pocket. He only took a few sips, saving the rest just in case he needed it later. God only knew how long he was going to be stuck there alone.

Dean’s mind was quick to dwell on Sam, Cas, and Gabriel. He had faith that they would be able to overpower Asmodeus, since it was three to one, but he couldn’t help but worry about them all. Did Cas know to protect Sammy’s left side, because it was his weakest? Did Sam know that he had to watch Cas’s back, because the angel tended to focus too hard on what was in front of him instead of what was behind? Were they going to be able to keep Gabriel in line when his temper flared? If Dean was there, he would do all of that. Now that he wasn’t there to protect them, Dean was terrified one of them would slip up and get hurt. He needed to get back there so badly… but there was nothing he could do at the moment. He just needed to keep his mind occupied until then. 

During the long wait, Dean took a good look around King Cas’s room. He found more pieces of sculptures; a marble foot, copper finger, half a face. Jars of sand, dirt, seeds, and water were placed on a table at the back of the room. Several paintings were stacked on the floor along the walls, some seeming oddly familiar. There were even a few large bricks and shards of metal, all neatly spread out together. It was a weird collection, even for an eccentric angel like Cas. Were these given to him through demon deals? Gifts from his new subjects? As strange as the room was, Dean found it kind of sweet. The king may have been wearing the stern, brash mask of a leader, but underneath, he was still Cas; the gentle, loving spirit that never wanted to harm a fly.

Nothing made that sentiment truer than when Dean came across the book hidden in the desk drawer. He slid the wooden drawer open – being nosey, as usual – and found the black cover of a Holy Bible staring back at him. Dean smirked as he reached in to pick up the leather-bound book and stare at the cover. He never expected to find such a holy relic in Hell. Honestly, it was a miracle that the book hadn’t burst into flames in a place like this. But it was just like Cas to keep something so meaningful hidden away. It was his father’s book. The thing was probably precious to the guy and he wanted to keep it safe.

Dean casually flipped through the bible out of boredom and it automatically turned to a specific page. A picture was wedged in the crack, shoved between the pages of Proverbs like a bookmark. Curious, Dean slid the picture out… and saw his own face. It was a polaroid photo that he remembered posing for back when he was in his mid-twenties. It was months after he finally convinced Sammy to start hunting with him. The two of them stopped on their way through Arizona to see the Grand Canyon for the first time. Dean held his arms out as wide as they would go, grinning like an idiot while Sammy snapped the pic. Dean smiled at it for a second... but then realized that this photo had been in the Impala. And that made him wonder; if he and Sam were dead in this universe, where was the car? Was it parked safely somewhere? Or was Dean’s baby, God forbid, crushed and broken?

Though he worried about his vehicle, Dean’s attention soon returned to the picture and the bible in his hand. Why did King Cas keep a picture of Dean tucked away in his bible? There was no picture of Sam; Dean flipped through to make sure he had not accidently overlooked it. Maybe Cas couldn’t find a picture of Sam after the world ended. Or maybe… Nah. King Cas couldn’t love Dean the same way _his_ Cas did, could he? Dean and Cas didn’t get together until the whole purgatory thing happened, and even then, Dean figured that Cas was just playing along with his ‘human urges’ for a while. The king probably kept Dean’s picture for the same reason he kept the rest of this junk; as a piece of the past to look back fondly on and remember to always keep fighting.

Dean eventually slid the photo back into the bible and placed it in the drawer the same way he found it. He didn’t want the king to think he had been snooping through his stuff while he was gone. Instead of making a fourth lap around the room, Dean finally sat down on the floor and propped his back and head up against the cold wall. A yawn escaped his mouth almost immediately, reminding him that Cas had been gone for way too long. It was nearly ten o’clock at night now. By Earth standards, anyway. Dean wished there were a bed nearby that he could crawl into. He eventually closed his eyes and felt his head start to bob a little bit, sinking lower each time. His brain was so exhausted from adrenaline and anxiety, it started to shut down. Dean remembered yawning once more and rolling to the side…

_… Then, he was driving. Or, it felt like driving. A black sky and red trees were flying passed him so fast that he barely saw them at all. He was heading down a straight road with corpses laying on both sides, each one reminiscent of the dead man he saw in the truck. Shriveled, blackened, unrecognizable faces. Red drips were painting them. Blood was falling from the sky like rain, covering his path in a misty crimson fog. Dean could feel himself panting in extreme discomfort._

_The fear didn’t hit him until he heard the scream. It was his brother’s voice; he would know it anywhere. Poor Sammy was screaming at the top of his lungs, breaking Dean’s heart. The sound was drawing closer, coming from somewhere directly in front of Dean. Just over the piles of rotting bodies, he finally saw him. Sammy. The poor kid was running for his life from something, wailing and sobbing._

_“Sammy! It’s okay! I’m here!”_

_Dean’s shout was lost under Sam’s cries, but Sam spotted him. He immediately changed direction, reaching both arms out. Dean opened his own too, offering his little brother a safe haven there. But as Sam ran through the blood rain, his scream was suddenly silenced. His head popped off his shoulders and fell to the ground. Dean gazed in horror, unable to look away, as Sam’s body dropped over and his head rolled to a stop at Dean’s feet. The terrified expression was frozen on Sam’s face as it stared up at Dean through the locks of his long hair._

_Dean wanted to scream but he couldn’t. His voice was lost when a ball of fire burst directly in front of him. A fiery figure was there, reaching out for him. He could almost feel the heat burning as the hand stretched toward his heart. It wasn’t until he fully looked at the figure that Dean realized he was staring at the love of his life. Castiel was fully ablaze; a column of fire standing in front of Dean. The angel was burning, reaching out to Dean for help. Dean gasped, feeling his heart race with panic inside his chest._

_“Cas! No! Cas!”_

_The angel didn’t make a sound as he burned. His face and hands morphed to ash as he crumbled to his knees, fading into a puff of soot and smoke before Dean’s waking eyes. Just like that, Sam was dead, and Cas was completely gone. The shriek that left Dean’s throat as he gazed down at the aftermath was enough to pierce his own ears and make them hurt. Blood painted the remains of his family, flooding around them like scarlet lava while Dean stood there, helpless._

_Then, heavy footsteps were moving toward him. Dean looked up to see a huge, towering silhouette stomping through Cas’s ashes and raising its arm high, holding a blunt weapon over its head. Dean thought he caught a glimpse of a face – his father’s face – peeking out from the shadow that threatened to overtake him –_

“Dean.”

The man gasped and scrambled in place, opening his eyes to search for a place to hide. His heart was pounding and his entire body was drenched in sweat, but he had to get away. That huge thing had killed his family and was coming for him next!

“Dean, stop! Look at me.”

The sound of Cas’s voice calmed Dean’s soul in an instant. The man steadied his vision to see his soulmate’s dark blue eyes blinking at him and was overwhelmed with relief.

“C – Cas!” Dean panted, tossing both arms around his lover’s shoulders to hug him tight, “Oh my God, baby, I just – I just had the worst nightmare… I dreamed you and Sam were… d – dead… I was in Hell… Shit, it felt so real…”

One of Cas’s hands timidly patted the back of Dean’s shoulder while the man tried to catch his breath.

“Calm down, Dean. Sam is… probably fine in your world. I’m sorry, I forgot to warn you not to fall asleep here.”

Dean was confused. Why wasn’t Cas more concerned? Why wasn’t he hugging Dean back or kissing him or comforting him? And what did he mean by ‘your world?’ Dean finally opened his eyes and saw candlelight over Cas’s shoulder. The paintings, the jars, the desk, the black walls – Dean was still in Hell. The Cas he clung to wasn’t the version he knew. It was the king. And Dean had just called him _baby_.

“Shit,” Dean breathed, letting go of Cas to look down at his own hands in embarrassment, “I – I’m sorry, man. I… just had a really bad dream –”

“Yes. Hell is the source of nightmares, Dean. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have taken so long to return.”

Dean eyed the angel in the dark, trying to figure out if he heard Dean call him ‘baby.’ If he did, he wasn’t showing it. Maybe the words got lost in Dean’s frantic rambling. Instead of dwelling on it, Dean tried to change the subject.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked. “I’ve been stuck in here for hours.”

The king leaned back before raising to his feet and walking across the room, speaking the whole time.

“A coalition of angels is trying to set up a base on Earth. Earth has been our battleground for a little over a year now, and I will not see it fall into the hands of God’s twisted children. I took a group of demons there and wiped the map clean. As it should be.”

Cas pulled two chairs out from the pile of stuff and gestured to the one closest to Dean.

“Please, come and have a seat. Stone floor is no place for human flesh.”

Dean only blinked at Cas for a second, still stunned by how effortless it was for the guy to talk about destroying his own race with the help of demons, who were once his greatest rival. The generous offer to sit in a comfy chair was like music to Dean’s ears. The man crawled up and stretched, realizing how much his muscles hurt from straining in his sleep, before stumbling over to plop himself into the chair. Along the way, his stomach rumbled and he clutched it, bringing his sight back to the king. He opened his mouth, prepared to explain that he was nearly starving, but the look of understanding on Cas’s face cut him short.

“You require food,” the angel mumbled.

“And water,” Dean added. “Don’t suppose you have that kind of stuff here in nightmare-land, do you?”

After Dean’s question, Cas vanished into thin air. The man gazed at the spot the angel had been standing in, feeling fear attempt to creep into his chest. He did not want to be alone; not after that traumatizing dream about Sam and Cas dying so horrifically. Remembering the visions in his mind made him sorely miss his family. God, he really hoped that Sam and Cas were still okay…

Luckily, the king was only gone for about a minute. He popped back into the room – holding an entire vending machine with both arms. Dean’s jaw dropped as he stared at the angel and the giant machine next to him. Where the hell did Cas get a vending machine?! How was it in Hell, and why?! Did demons get the munchies, too? Cas easily twisted the heavy machine toward Dean before using the back end of his angel blade to break the front panel of glass, allowing Dean access to the chips and candy bars inside. The king then reached into his pocket and produced four bottles of water, which he lined up along the edge of his desk near Dean.

“Is… Is this quantity suitable?” Cas asked, sounding genuinely unsure.

“Y – Yeah,” Dean answered, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the food and water. “Uh, Cas? Not that I’m complaining, but why do you have a fully stocked vending machine? And, you know, while we’re at it, why is this room full of junk?”

Cas looked away to pivot around the room, looking at the objects Dean referred to with sorrow and remorse.

“It is not junk, Dean. Not to me,” the angel said woefully. “All of this, everything you see… It is the last of humanity’s good work. The last of my father’s holy creation.”

Dean gulped and looked around at the objects again in a new light. Those paintings were probably collected from museums. The pieces of sculptures, too. Wow, Dean felt like an asshole for insulting it all. He should have known that Cas would only do things from the heart…

As the man hunkered down and quietly ripped open a candy bar in shame, Cas stepped over to lift a small brick from a table.

“This is a piece from one of the Pyramids in Egypt,” the angel explained. “I couldn’t tell you which one, because they were destroyed by the time I made it there, buried in the desert sand like a sunken ship. This was all that was salvageable.”

Cas put the brick down and picked up a jar of clear liquid.

“This is rain from one of the last clean rainfalls in the Amazon. All of the animals there are dead, now. Only acid rain falls on Earth… but I have preserved a small specimen of its former glory, if only to prove that it existed at all.”

Dean’s heart ached as he chewed on his Snicker’s bar. It was so sad to think that the beautiful world he knew was destroyed. Everyone and everything – history itself – was gone. And here was Cas, trying so hard to preserve everything he could… The angel put the jar down to pick up and stare at a painting.

“Humanity was so talented… Intelligent... Fragile… I have done all I can to save what was left of them. I tried to save every last piece… But, in the end, these items are just reminders that I couldn’t save the most important thing of all…”

Dean swallowed his food and put the half-eaten candy down, giving all of his attention to the angel who faced away from him. Cas’s head of dark hair was lowered, and his shoulders were propped up as he braced both hands on a nearby table.

“Dean. Do you know why you were brought here in a blindfold?”

Dean barely heard the question because Cas said it so quietly. Though he was curious, the man decided to answer as best he could.

“I figured it was because the demons didn’t want me to know where I was.”

“That is a good guess,” Cas allowed. “The real reason is much more sentimental… When you – when _Dean_ died, I wasn’t there. I was getting as many humans as possible to safety, trying to spare them from the wrath of Michael and Lucifer. When I finally reached you and Sam, it was too late. My brothers had stabbed each other through the heart. I only saw the aftermath…”

Cas paused and Dean could tell that the angel was holding back his emotions. He continued to face the wall as he spoke, as if it was too painful to look at Dean.

“Part of me hoped that if Michael was dead, your soul would be spared. But when I rolled you over… your green eyes… your soul… They were gone,” Cas nearly whispered. “The image – the very thought of you being dead – still haunts me. When angels send false humans of your likeness, I force the demons to cover the eyes so that I won’t have to watch them burn out…”

A noise came from Cas’s side of the room, which Dean assumed was a sniffle. His heart felt like a swollen balloon in his chest, painfully pressing against his ribs and making him squirm. He hated seeing Cas suffer like this.

“Dean, I want you to know that I am sincerely sorry,” the angel whimpered, though he still faced the wall. “I gave you and Sam both a hunter’s funeral. I cremated you next to him, where you always belonged. I gave you the most respectful send off possible... But nothing changes the fact that you’re dead, and I couldn’t help you –”

“Cas, it was not your fault,” Dean interrupted, bringing the poor angel’s rant to a stop. “If anything, it sounds like it was my fault, Dean’s fault, for even saying yes to Michael in the first place. It was sweet of you to give me and Sam a hunter’s funeral together. I appreciate that so much. I couldn’t have asked for more, baby –”

_Dammit_! Dean slipped up and called the king ‘baby’ _again_! There was no covering it up, this time. The king finally stood up straight and turned to look at Dean with his head tilted. The moment between them had shifted from deep and meaningful to quiet and curious in an instant. Dean could feel heat pulsing from his face the longer Cas’s blue eyes gazed at him.

“That is the third time you have referred to me as an infant, Dean… Why?”

Third? Oh God, Dean must have called him ‘baby’ when he first saw him, too. Though he was full of embarrassment, Dean knew he couldn’t put off the explanation any longer. It was finally time to spill the beans to the poor king and tell him about the situation Dean and Cas were in on the other side. Dean started by leaning forward in his chair and pointing to the one across from him.

“You’d better take a seat for this,” he suggested.

While Cas slowly came around to sit down, Dean grabbed a nearby bottle of water, cracked it open, and drank the whole thing in a single go. His body was so warm that he could feel the cold liquid go all the way into his belly and zigzag through some of his intestines. He hoped the cold drink would prepare him for the potentially uncomfortable conversation, but it didn’t do much other than take away his dry mouth. After putting down the empty bottle, Dean clasped both hands together and stared at the floor near Cas’s dark shoes.

“In the world where I came from, Cas and I… We, um… Well, we’re in a relationship,” Dean offered.

Cas’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. Or confusion.

“Relationship?” the angel prompted.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed. “See, after we put Michael and Lucifer in the cage, some Leviathan broke out of Purgatory and started hassling Earth. Some douchebag named Dick Roman was their leader, we tracked him down to gank him… Anyway, long story short, you and I ended up in Purgatory together.”

“Purgatory?” Cas repeated, sounding unconvinced.

“Yes. We accidentally got too close to Dick when he exploded, and it sent us there. We got separated – or, I _thought_ we got separated. Turned out that you took off because the Leviathan were chasing you. You stayed away from me to keep me safe. But I wasn’t about to leave Purgatory without you, so I tracked you down and…” Dean trailed off with a smile, feeling a swirl of warm emotion tickle his chest. “I found you near a riverbed. Seeing you there, it made me realize that I never wanted to be without you. I needed you in my life, always… When we made it topside, I finally broke down and explained how I felt. You told me you always felt the same, so now we’re… We’re kind of… Boyfriends. That’s why I keep calling you ‘baby.’ I call Cas ‘baby’ all the time.” 

For a while, Cas just stared at Dean with an absolute blank expression. The guy either didn’t understand Dean’s story or was too stunned by the revelation to properly communicate. The silence was starting to get uncomfortable. Dean wondered if he should say something else when Cas’s mouth finally opened.

“You and I are… in love?”

Dean exhaled, grateful that Cas had followed along.

“Where I’m from, yeah,” he answered.

Cas’s throat quivered with a gulp as he briefly glanced away and back.

“We’ve had… intercourse?”

Dean covered his mouth and coughed, feeling like his face was on fire as he tried to hide a nervous grin.

“Oh, yeah. Lots,” he carefully answered.

The king was frozen in his seat, only able to blink and look around in shock. Dean wondered if this was a new thing for him. Did Dean really have to explain the birds and the bees? Wasn’t the king with Meg? He knew all about intercourse, didn’t he? Dean’s smile faded a bit when he remembered Meg kissing the edge of Cas’s mouth.

“What about you? You’re with Meg, right? Haven’t you had intercourse with her?”

The questions came out accusingly, but the king seemed indifferent to the mention of Meg.

“Meg is loyal to me,” Cas corrected. “She joined me without a fight and was responsible for turning most of the other demons toward our cause. She does as I say, so I allow her to… demonstrate her fidelity with affection.” 

Though it pained him to ask, Dean felt like he had to know…

“So, you’ve had sex?” he asked bluntly.

The king glanced away, seeming embarrassed.

“We… attempted it. Once,” he admitted. “I don’t think we actually completed the act. She said that I ‘couldn’t get it up’. Which is absurd, because I was standing the entire time…”

Dean tossed his head back with a laugh, hearing the sound echo through the room. Not only was he amused by the thought of Meg not being able to give Cas an erection, but poor Cas didn’t realize that she wasn’t talking about standing up. Though he may have been a king in this universe, Cas was still the innocent angel Dean knew and loved.

“Oh, Cas. Don’t ever change, man,” Dean hummed as he wiped the tear of laughter from the corner of his eye.

The king seemed confused by Dean’s reaction, but also slightly curious. He shifted in his chair, bringing both hands from his sides to his knees so that he could lean forward a little.

“Dean, forgive me for saying this,” he began, “but, when you were alive, I was under the impression that you only mated with females. I mean, you – you were drawn to well-endowed Asian women and female bartenders…”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, cringing internally at the thought, “See, Cas, that was what we humans like to call ‘a front.’ All my life, deep down, I always liked men too. I was just too afraid to admit it growing up, because my old man was a bigot. But then, you came along and set me free. Now, I’m not afraid to admit that I’m bisexual.”

The king’s mouth dangled open, leaving a weird silence in the room. Dean picked his half-eaten candy bar up and took a bite, trying to fill the void.

“And for the record, I’m not drawn to Asian women much anymore,” Dean mumbled with a full mouth as he briefly gestured toward Cas’s lower half. “The thing that really gets me going is that ass of yours.”

The king’s mouth finally closed as he leaned back in his chair. There was a growing sense of unbelief in his face; like he couldn’t trust everything he was hearing.

“I’m sorry, but the Dean I knew would never admit to that. He would never betray his own self-made identity in such a public way. It’s not possible. It’s…” Cas trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s too good to be true…”

Dean was almost offended until he heard Cas’s last sentence. Too good to be true? Maybe the king had been waiting and rooting for his own Dean to come out before he died. Maybe this Cas had feelings for the Dean that had passed away…

“It’s true,” Dean promised. “I’m bisexual. And I’m in love with Cas.”

The king still wore a mask of apprehension.

“And we have sex?” he asked again with narrowed eyes.

Dean huffed a breath of frustration. Why wouldn’t the king just believe him? Hoping to make Cas realize how honest he was, Dean decided to tell him about one of their intimate encounters.

“You know, about a week after we started dating, Cas and I went to an interview together,” Dean began with a smirk. “We’d had sex twice before that, but I swear, I had never been as turned on by anyone as I was that day for you. I kept glancing at you, watching your mouth move when you spoke, noticing every ruffle and fold in your pants when you walked, seeing the intensity of your blue eyes when you looked at me. God, I wanted you so bad, I didn’t think I could wait until we made it back to the motel…”

The king’s full attention was on Dean, eyes set forward as he listened to the story.

“I pulled over at a diner on the way back and took you to the Men’s room, because I just couldn’t wait any longer,” Dean continued, grinning fondly at the memory. “I didn’t even make sure the room was empty. I just pulled you into the nearest stall and plunged into you, kissing your mouth like it was made of milk and honey. We were all over each other; groping and kissing and grinding. My dick was so hard it was starting to hurt, so I turned you around and slid inside you... And, let me tell you, it’s like your body was made for mine, Cas. It fits me like a tight glove every time… I remember it only took me two minutes to finish, because I felt guilty afterward. You still hadn’t finished yet, so I did something I’d never done before. I spun you around, dropped to my knees, and slid your dick into my mouth. I didn’t even think about it, I just did it. I could feel the veins of it on my tongue, pulsing with blood. The look of pleasure on your face still excites me. It wasn’t long before you came. That was the first time I had ever tasted…”

Dean stopped talking when he noticed Cas’s head drop down. The king was looking at his lap – where he was pitching a tent with his pants. Dean bit his lip to hold back a laugh. Meg might not have been able to give Cas an erection, but Dean could do it just by speaking…

“Well, how about that,” Dean hummed. “Looks like you can get it up after all…” 

The king nervously glanced between the man across from him and the hard on in his lap, stuck between a mix of bewilderment and arousal. This poor version of Cas had probably never had an erection before, let alone an orgasm…

Unfortunately, the intimate conversation was cut short when a knock came from the door. Dean and the king both looked toward it before glancing to each other. Cas raised his hand, gesturing for Dean to remain seated as he got up to go and see who was there. In the meantime, Dean felt a twinge of guilt creep into his heart. Was it somehow disloyal for him to talk to another person about his sexual adventures with Cas? Even if that person was a different version of Cas? The last thing Dean wanted was to mess up the good thing he had going with the angel waiting for him back home. Being with Cas was the best thing that ever happened to Dean, and he didn’t want to lose it for anything…

The king was at the door for close to five minutes. At various points, Dean tried to listen in and figure out what he was discussing with the person outside. Eventually, the door shut and the king came back with a solemn look on his face. Dean casually glanced down to see that the guy’s semi-erection was gone, too.

“Do you remember what I said about the angel radio, Dean?”

Cas wasn’t looking at him, but at the floor with a blank stare. Though he was tempted to be alarmed, Dean nodded.

“Yeah. You said you can still hear it.”

“And in three days’ time, the angels will attack,” Cas reminded, blue eyes finally finding Dean’s face. “I intend to get you home before then. Tell me, this portal you came through, how was it made?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Asmodeus was in the middle of making it when we showed up,” Dean explained.

“Why? What was his intention for coming here?”

“He never said. Just that he wanted to go through and never come back.”

The king paused to think, glancing around.

“Why were you after him? How did he cross your hunting radar?” he asked.

Dean took a deep breath, recalling the morning before. Sammy was so happy to see the trickster come into the kitchen, just like Dean was so glad to see Cas. It was strange to think that a mundane, routine morning would become such a bittersweet memory.

“Gabriel,” Dean answered. “Asmodeus held him captive for five years – ”

“Gabriel? My brother, Gabriel?” Cas interrupted.

“Yeah. Asmodeus captured him after…” Dean stopped, realizing, “Wait, was Gabriel here, too? Did he try to help you stop the apocalypse?”

“He stood up to Lucifer, yes. But you and Sam told me that Lucifer killed him when he impersonated the trickster God, Loki. He’s dead.”

“No,” Dean said, carefully getting to his feet. “We thought he was dead, too. But he was actually captured by Asmodeus. The dude kept him locked up in Hell and was siphoning his grace for years. He didn’t break out until recently. At least, that’s how it is in the world I came from.”

Cas studied Dean’s face for a second, probably recognizing the hopefulness growing there.

“You’re saying Gabriel may still be alive in my timeline,” the angel assumed.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “He might still be here, trapped somewhere in Hell. We could find him. Save him. He could help us.”

“More than that, Dean,” Cas added, his blue eyes piercing the man’s soul. “Archangel grace is capable of opening portals.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, another cliffhanger! XD I’m sorry if Dean’s nightmare was a little too graphic. I briefly considered adding a violence warning at the top of the chapter, but hopefully the italics was enough to assure you that it was just a dream. ;) I hope the tonal shifts in this chapter didn’t give you too much whiplash. I know it changed from terrifying, to sad, to funny, to smutty faster than the snap of an archangel’s fingers, but I felt a few things needed to be addressed; like the reason Cas collected all that stuff and his arrangement with Meg. Also, I hope it’s not too strange to hear Dean openly admit that he’s bisexual. It’s music to our ears – (and definitely something that needs to happen on the show before it ends, even though it probably never will, which has me all kinds of messed up) – but poor King Cas had to deal with the season 4-5 version of Dean, who was heavily and angrily in denial. Good thing the open version of Dean is around to make the king feel better. ;D I will say that the next few chapters are rather angsty, so brace yourselves. This story gets pretty dark at times, but don’t worry. It only makes the light shine brighter. ;) I love you guys so much! Thank you all for reading and commenting on this story! It really means a lot to me during this time. :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for feels, y’all. This is the saddest chapter of the story. Reader discretion is advised

“Where was Gabriel located in your world, Dean? In which part of Hell was he kept?”

Dean heard the question, but he was momentarily sidetracked by the previous statement. Archangel grace could _open portals_! Not only would they be able to save Gabriel in this universe, but Gabe could help Dean get back to his own universe! Back to Sammy! Back to _Cas_! Dean had to stop himself from getting excited just to answer the king.

“Uh, I saw the cage, but I’m not sure exactly how to get there,” Dean admitted. “I think it might be near the cage where Lucifer and Michael were, but don’t quote me on that.”

A glimmer of chrome slid out from Cas’s coat sleeve; an angel blade slipping into his grasp.

“Very well,” the king replied as he turned for the door. “I will look for Gabriel and return when – ”

“Whoa, slow your roll there, hot wings.”

The man dashed over to block Cas’s path and stop him from leaving. The king seemed surprised, as if Dean was the first person to stand in his way in a long time. If he didn’t like Dean blocking the door, king Cas really wasn’t going to like what Dean was going to say next…

“I’m coming with you.”

Cas lowered his head, making his blue eyes look misty and full of authority.

“No, you’re not,” the king denied.

“Cas, listen baby – er, _buddy_ ,” Dean quickly revised, feeling another flash of shame, “You know how useful I am. I’m good with a blade. I’m tough. I’m resourceful. You said so yourself, remember? Besides, I’ve been locked in this room for like thirteen hours. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m gonna go crazy.”

Cas took a large step forward, bringing his handsome face so close that Dean could almost see the sapphire strings of his ocean irises.

“In case you forgot, Dean, you are standing in Hell. This place is crawling with all manner of evil,” the king breathed. “I have kept you in this room for your own safety. To spare you from the wrath of those bloodthirsty demons just beyond that door who would love nothing more than to kill you on sight.”

“I understand that, Cas. And I appreciate the concern, I really do,” Dean allowed. “But I think _you_ forgot who you’re talking to. Hi, it’s me, Dean Winchester. Have we met?”

The sarcastic comment made the king roll his eyes and shake his head in annoyance.

“You don’t have to worry about me so much, man. I know how to handle myself in a fight.”

“This isn’t about fighting, Dean. It’s about getting you back to your own reality in one piece,” Cas argued.

“I can help you find Gabriel, and you know it,” Dean continued. “If Gabe’s really here, he’s gonna be dinged up pretty bad. I’ve been talking to Gabriel for weeks, now. I know how to communicate with him, which means I might be able to convince him to help us. If you just let me go with you, I can _help_. Please, Cas, let me help.”

The begging tone in Dean’s voice seemed to be enough to finally convince the king to back down. The angel huffed a breath finally took a step back, glancing toward the floor in defeat.

“The demons believe that I have been torturing you. If you truly wish to leave this room and journey with me, we must make you look the part,” Cas said carefully.

Dean briefly panicked. Oh, great, was Cas going to beat him up, now? Dean knew from personal experience how hard Cas could hit when he was really pissed off. Would he still hit as hard when Dean was so defenseless?

Cas raised his free hand, making Dean close his eyes and flinch away in preparation of being punched. But instead of striking Dean, Cas’s open palm and fingers gently clasped Dean’s face. The man blinked again, seeing pure concentration in Cas’s stern expression. Dean was so familiar with the feeling of Cas’s grace working in his body that he barely noticed Cas was using it until he looked down and saw the bruises beginning to form on his hands. Dark marks and small cuts started to appear along all of Dean’s exposed flesh. He could feel the soreness on parts of his face, especially when the left side of his bottom lip swelled up.

Once Cas seemed content with the change of Dean’s appearance, he walked over and rummaged around in a nearby cabinet. A few seconds later, the king returned with a vile full of red liquid.

“Are you comfortable with wearing the blood of a dead priest?” the angel asked.

The thought made Dean want to vomit. Ew, he didn’t want to walk around with some dead guy’s blood on him! But if it would be enough to convince Cas to let him go…

“I guess,” Dean grumbled, though his fat lip slurred some of it.

The king uncorked the vile, dipped his finger inside the thick liquid, and started to paint it on parts of Dean’s face. Dean tried not to think about it too much, because if he did, he would surely throw up. ‘ _Pretend it’s gravy or something_ ,’ Dean tried to think, ‘ _Hell, pretend it’s Cas’s jizz_.’ The idea made a smile flash on Dean’s currently misshapen lips. Wouldn’t be the first time his face was splattered with Cas’s finish. The king pulled his hand away with narrowed eyes.

“What?” he asked, probably confused by Dean’s sudden smirk.

“Nothing.”

He wasn’t about to let the king know all the dirty stuff he had done with the angel’s Earthly counterpart. Thankfully, the king dismissed it and retrieved something else from the cabinet. He raised his hand, revealing a pair of metal handcuffs dangling from his fingers.

“You’ll have to wear these as well.”

Dean had to bite his own swollen lip to keep from giggling. He happily held his wrists out for Cas to start cuffing. The sound of the metal clicking into place as the cool metal fit snugly to his skin nearly gave Dean a semi…

“You know, if we weren’t in such a messed up situation, this would be sexy as hell,” Dean almost whispered.

He expected Cas to smile and blush like he always did when Dean mentioned something erotic. But then, Dean remembered that this was not the Cas he knew. This one only gulped and looked away, seeming somewhat uncomfortable with the flirty comment. After coughing a little, the king redrew his blade and took hold of Dean’s linked wrists.

“Please refrain from speaking with anyone. If they ask, I will tell them that I have tortured information out of you pertaining to an angel’s location. Do not reveal that it is Gabriel we are searching for. If we don’t get to him first, the demons will surely kill him. Understand?”

Dean held in a squeak. God, Cas sounded so damn sexy when he talked like that…

“Yes, boss,” the man hummed.

A hint of pain appeared on Cas’s face.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your boss, Dean. I’m your friend,” the angel corrected quietly.

Dean was about to argue with Cas and explain that the angel was actually the love of his life, but the door swung open and all of Hell awaited them. The king led the way out, sternly yanking on Dean’s wrists to make him follow like a master leading an animal. Dean acted the part as best as he could, keeping his head down in ‘shame’ as they shuffled passed the guards outside and a few demons in the corridor. He assumed they would be stopped and questioned by at least one person, but it seemed like all of the demons were too respectful – or too scared – of Cas to say anything to him, even as he carted Dean’s bruised and bloody carcass around the place. Just as Dean was starting to get comfortable, however…

“Ah. Taking the dog for a walk, Clarence?”

Dean didn’t have to turn around to know who had spoken. It was Meg, back to rub her relationship with Cas in Dean’s face again, probably. The king stopped and turned to her, which allowed Dean to see the look of raw dominance on Cas’s face. Despite his unapproachable expression, Meg pranced up to glance between him and Dean.

“Wow. You’ve made this thing into quite the art piece,” Meg hummed, nonchalantly reaching over to slide her hand along Cas’s waist, “Has it spilt anything yet?”

“Yes. I have gained information that an angel is hiding inside our walls,” the king answered. “Meg, take your men and check the upper cells. The angel is likely hiding among the souls of the dead. Let me be the first to know if you find anything.”

“You’ve got it,” the demoness replied.

Before Meg left, she kissed the edge of Cas’s closed mouth. But this time, her arm curled around his back. Dean knew because he couldn’t take his eyes off it. They were zeroed in on the contact like a precision laser; unaware of anything else until it was over. By the time Meg hailed some nearby demons and walked away with them, Dean was pissed off all over again. The king seemed to notice Dean’s distress because his blue eyes softened and his fingers gently caressed Dean’s wrists under the cuffs. Dean realized he must have been glaring or something and quickly changed his face. He couldn’t let that Meg stuff bother him; not when they were about to see Gabriel. Then, Dean remembered…

“I thought you wanted to keep this a secret. Why did you tell Meg to check the upper cells?” he whispered.

“To throw her off the scent,” Cas answered quietly, carefully tugging Dean along. “Come. The cages are this way.”

The rest of their journey went uninterrupted. Dean was glad that Cas knew where he was going because all of the dark corridors looked the same to him. The faint noise of distant screams and cries were haunting, but they helped Dean focus on the task at hand. He couldn’t imagine being in Gabriel’s shoes; to be stuck down here, having his lifeforce drained against his will. Hopefully with Asmodeus dead, like Cas said, Gabriel wouldn’t be as drained as the version Dean knew. The archangel was probably sitting in that cage waiting for someone to show up – or, maybe, he had already broken out somehow. What if that were the case? How would Dean get home if Gabriel wasn’t there to help them? ‘ _The bunker_ ,’ Dean reminded himself, trying to remain calm, ‘ _We can always try the bunker.._.’

Soon, they started to pass various empty cellblocks and dark rooms. Light was so scarce that Cas eventually lit up his hand with grace to brighten the way. There were no demons down in this part of Hell. The whole area looked abandoned. After a few minutes of walking, the king eventually led Dean up to a large, empty cage.

“This is the one that held Lucifer,” the angel explained.

Dean swallowed hard in the silence as he eyed the eroded metal bars. It was like looking at an old war monument; something from a distant time that held too much horror to be forgotten. Cas exhaled audibly and turned around to uncuff Dean’s wrists. Dean watched him do it, holding still even though he was confused.

“What if the demons see this?” he asked.

“There are no demons down here, Dean,” the king assured as he glanced around. “Please help me search for Gabriel.”

Dean instantly went to work. He recognized some of the walls and cells from when he and Sammy raided the place to find Asmodeus. If it wasn’t for the blueish-white grace shining from Cas’s hand, though, Dean wouldn’t have been able to see anything. It was pitch black; so dark that he kept accidentally bumping into things. He honestly couldn’t remember if this was the place they found Gabriel or not. The only thing Dean could recall was the hollow gasp Sammy made when they first looked at the pitiful archangel…

A faint flash of yellow light came from the end of the long hall. Not only did it catch Dean’s attention, but Cas immediately turned toward it too, lowering his lit hand in surprise. When the king looked at him, Dean gave him a nod. It had to be Gabriel. There was no one else it could be. The king bobbed his head in confirmation before starting for the end of the hall. Halfway there, however, Cas slowed down and eventually stopped.

“I cannot go any further,” he huffed.

Dean studied the angel, noticing that his breath seemed labored and he was slumping toward the wall. He looked tired all of the sudden. Why?

“What’s going on, Cas?”

“Whatever is in that room… is siphoning celestial aura. I can feel it trying to take the rest of mine,” the king said. He reached over to clutch Dean’s shoulder and look him in the eye before saying, “You must go in there and destroy whatever spell is causing it so I can join you. But, please, be careful.”

Dean assured the angel with a nod as he retrieved the angel blade from his waistband. With his weapon drawn, the hunter eased up to the nearby door and pushed it open, squinting his eyes in the semi-darkness to see better. The outline of a cage was the first thing he saw. It was sitting in the middle of the room, barely big enough to contain a large dog let alone a fully grown archangel. Dean could hear something ticking too, like an old clock, somewhere to his left. In the dark, it was difficult to see anything else.

“Gabriel?” Dean called.

A few seconds after he asked, Dean heard a small ‘ding’. Then, the room was filled with dim yellow light. It was coming from inside the cage; the source being a frail, scrawny body lying in the center. Dean watched the weak light travel from the boney figure, up into a funnel at the cage ceiling, across the room through a tube, and down into a large empty jar. The light faded once it was inside, making the area go dark again. But Dean had just enough time to see the clock rigged to the jar. Though he wasn’t sure if it would stop the spell, Dean rushed over and smashed the clock with the end of his angel blade, morphing the annoying ticking sound into peaceful silence. Afterward, Dean walked over to kneel down next to the cage and the limp body inside.

“Gabriel, hey,” he called, knocking on the bars of the cage, “Hey, look at me. Gabriel. It’s Dean Winchester. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

The archangel didn’t move or respond. Dean’s mind automatically jumped to the worst conclusion and assumed the guy was already dead. But then, he realized that couldn’t be true, because he just saw the guy’s golden grace seconds before. Why wouldn’t Gabe answer? Was he asleep? Unconscious? Or were his lips still sewn shut?

“Did he not answer, Dean?”

Dean spun around to see Cas in the doorway. Breaking the clock must have broken the whole grace siphoning spell, because the king waltz straight in and knelt next to the man near the cage.

“N – no,” Dean answered. “I think his mouth is sewn shut.”

“Sewn shut?” Cas repeated, appalled.

“Yeah. Asmodeus did it to shut him up. That demon’s is a pretty effed up piece of work. Come on. We’ve gotta get this cage open.”

With Dean’s help, the king found the door of the cage and forced it open, breaking the heavy iron locks and ripping the bars completely off. Cas was the first inside. The king reached down and carefully rolled Gabriel over… and this time, Dean was the one who gasped hollowly. Not only was Gabriel as thin as a starved horse and dressed in rags with his lips sewn together, but his eyes were also blank. Dean had never seen eyes so empty before; so dull and unblinking. The Gabriel that Dean knew had clearly checked out long ago…

“He is extremely weak, Dean,” the king stated. “We must get him to the upper dungeons so I can inspect him further.”

* * *

Cas carefully placed Dean back in cuffs before escorting him through Hell. Gabriel was tossed over the king’s shoulder like a limp doll as they made the procession upstairs. The demons they passed had suspicion in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe that an archangel had been right under their nose the whole time. Luckily, none of them were brave enough to question the king about it. They all stood out of the way and kept their heads down as Dean passed. Though it was against his wishes, Dean was dropped back off in Cas’s quarters again.

“I must examine Gabriel thoroughly, Dean. In order to do that, he must be taken through a densely populated part of Hell, and I will not endanger your life by bringing you along,” Cas said. “Please, wait here for me.”

Though Dean was against it, he did as the king asked and sat in the storage room. He hoped that it wouldn’t take as long for Cas to come back for him. He hoped that Gabriel was alright, and that Cas would be able to help him. Getting back home was important to Dean, but at this point, so was saving Gabriel. The look in the poor archangel’s eyes haunted him. Gabe didn’t look like that when Sam and Dean found him. He was at least alert and mobile. This Gabriel, though… This one looked worse. 

Dean ate another candy bar and drank some more water as he waited to hear a verdict, hoping that it would calm his nerves. But he just couldn’t shake the uncertainty and worry from his mind. What was going on with Cas, Sam, and Gabe back home? Maybe they had killed Asmodeus and were trying to figure out a way to get to Dean. That was hopeful, but probably untrue. Asmodeus was more powerful than Dean thought. To keep an archangel under lock and key for years? To use an archangel as a milking cow? That was no easy feat. Dean could only imagine what that bastard could do to his poor family…

To make himself feel better, Dean rolled up his sleeve and fiddled with the coat strap on his forearm. Looking at the familiar shade of tan brought back so many good memories of being alone with Cas; sharing time with him, talking to him, smiling, laughing, kissing, holding him… Dean eventually laid his head down on it and silently prayed that his family would be alright.

A breeze soon swept through the room and Dean lifted his head to see the king standing near him. The man searched the angel’s face, trying to see if there was anything written there that might confirm if Gabriel was going to be alright or if he had enough grace left to make a portal. But, as usual, Cas’s expression was void of emotion.

“Hey. How is he?” Dean asked.

Before he answered, the king stepped closer and reached out his hand to cradle Dean’s cheek. Cas’s grace carefully got rid of all the bruises and cuts they had previously placed, as well as took the swelling out of his lip and made the blood disappear. Dean had forgotten all about the fake injuries until that moment. Cas’s hand dropped away afterward and he stared down into Dean’s eyes.

“There is barely enough of Gabriel left to properly call him Gabriel,” Cas answered. “The cage he was kept in seems to have been on an automatic timer, extracting his grace from him every fifteen minutes. I assume Asmodeus rigged it that way whenever he stepped out to do an errand. Since the knight has been dead, the cage was left running down there for… years…”

Dean closed his eyes and gulped. ‘ _Gabriel’s fine_ ,’ he had to remind himself, ‘ _Gabriel is at home, with Sam. Sam would never let that happen to him again…_ ’

“The grace pulled by the machine is no longer viable. It seems to be destroyed as soon as it is extracted. As far as the archangel himself goes, Gabriel’s cognitive ability is now the equivalent of a human with a botched lobotomy,” the king continued. “His grace is insufficient for keeping him alive let alone opening a portal… It may be best to simply put him out of his misery.”

Dean’s eyes flashed open to look up at Cas in horror. Put him out of his misery?! Cas was talking about killing his own brother! He couldn’t do that!

“Wh – what? Kill him? But that’s – ”

“Dean,” the king interrupted softly. “Please try to understand. There is nothing left of the archangel you knew. His grace is beyond depleted. He will not recover. To keep him alive would be to sentence him to ages of suffering. Letting him go would be kinder.”

A storm of outrage, anger, and sadness clashed inside Dean’s heart. Gabriel might not have been the easiest person for Dean to get along with, but the thought of having to put the poor guy down like an animal? That was crazy! And how could Cas talk so blandly about killing his favorite brother? None of this could be true. It just couldn’t.

“I want to see him,” Dean said as he jumped up from his seat.

The king sighed.

“Dean –”

“No, I want to see him with my own eyes. He could still be in there. You’re just not looking hard enough,” Dean argued.

Though he obviously disagreed with everything Dean said, Cas eventually exhaled in defeat.

“Fine. But I must fly you to the location. We cannot let the demons see you outside of this room,” the king allowed.

Dean offered his arm, ready and willing to make the flight across Hell. The king clasped Dean’s forearm and they disappeared in the blink of an eye; gone from the storage room and suddenly standing in front of a large door. Cas leaned back and scanned the corridor for movement before reaching over to turn the knob and push the door open.

“He is in there,” the angel explained. “See his condition for yourself.”

Dean took a second to prepare himself before walking into the room. It was lit with many candles, just like the storage room Dean was usually kept in. Gabriel, still wearing dirty rags, was laying on a metal examination table, surrounded by various tools. As he walked up, Dean could see that the thread had been removed from his lips. Though it was no longer forced to be shut, Gabriel’s mouth remained closed as if it had been that way for so long that he didn’t even realize he could open it. His limbs were still as stone, but still somewhat bent at the elbows and knees, like the fetal position they had found him in was still lingering in his muscles.

But his eyes… His eyes were open, but empty. Blank. Hollow… Soulless…

“Gabriel?”

Dean’s timid voice sounded fearful against the silence. But the archangel didn’t even react to the noise. He didn’t even flinch. Looking down at the pitiful state Gabriel was in made Dean think of Sam. He was so glad that Sammy wasn’t there to see this. It would have hurt the poor guy’s heart to see Gabriel so utterly broken beyond repair. Hell, it was even making Dean’s heart break…

“Gabe,” Dean said again, tapping the archangel’s hand this time.

Nothing. Dammit. Cas was right. There wasn’t enough of Gabriel left to save… but it was still Gabriel, right? As vacant as they were, those golden eyes still belonged to the trickster. Dean exhaled and curled his fingers around Gabe’s limp hand, noting how cold the digits were in his grasp.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” the man began, his eyes on the floor. “I hope you can… I just want you to know I’m sorry this happened to you. It’s not fair. It’s not right… But I’m gonna make damn sure that the person who did it pays for it.”

Dean glanced at Gabe’s blank face and felt terrible. What good would killing Asmodeus really do? The damage was done. There was no fixing it. Gabriel was a lump of flesh on a table, now… Dean’s eyes ached in their sockets, threatening to create tears. What could he say to make Gabriel feel better? The poor guy was probably about to die. What could Dean possibly say that would make any difference?

“I, uh… I don’t know if you know this, but my little brother is in love with you,” Dean confided warmly. “Sam won’t admit it, of course. Not yet, anyway… But where I come from, Sammy is smitten with you. He was the one who cut those wires off your lips, you know. He cleaned you up. He gave you your own room in our bunker. He set you up with a privet stash of candy, offers you coffee, helps you talk. The kid hangs on to every word you say. He turns into a little boy whenever you enter a room. It’s like watching him be a kid all over again... And if he were standing here right now, Gabe, he would be giving you a spa treatment. He wouldn’t let anyone even get close to you with an angel blade. Sammy would… would do everything he could to save you…”

Dean said the last part slowly so that he could keep his tears in. Sam would have done so much more than Dean if he was there. But he wasn’t there. This was Hell. Pure Hell… Dean gave the archangel’s hand a squeeze.

“I’ll do right by you on the other side of that portal. I swear.”

After giving Gabe’s hand a pat, Dean forced himself to turn away and walk back out of the room. He didn’t say a word to Cas. He didn’t have to. Cas could see the release on his face. The angel only bowed his head and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Dean alone in the hallway. The man stood there and tried to think of anything – movies, cars, beer, anything at all – to take his mind away from what was about to happen.

But then, the golden light flashed at the bottom of the door. Dean couldn’t look away from the bright yellow shine. His eyes stayed glued to it until it faded out completely. And when there was nothing left but darkness, Dean groaned out loud and crumbled to his knees. Tears were streaming down both of his cheeks while he crouched there, panting through gritted teeth as he delivered a solid punch to the stone wall with his balled fist. Gabriel had been his friend, someone that he would be glad to see with his little brother. Now, he was gone. Just like Dean. Just like Sam. Just like the rest of the entire world. This universe was a nightmare.

But it wasn’t exactly the worst. It couldn’t be. Because, by some miracle, Cas was still here. And that precious angel was the only thing keeping it from being Dean’s personal Hell.

The door eventually opened again and the king stepped into the hallway. Dean quickly stood up and wiped his eyes so that he wouldn’t upset Cas. Strangely, there was not even a hint of concern on the king’s face. Despite the fact that he had just killed his own brother – and arguably one of his only friends – Cas seemed indifferent. That, in and of itself, made Dean feel even worse. 

Cas immediately recognized how much of an effect Gabe’s death had on Dean. The angel lowered his head somberly again as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a tiny bottle. The swirling contents inside glowed yellow.

“Here,” the king said, offering it to Dean. “This is the last of Gabriel’s grace. It isn’t nearly enough to open a portal, but I assumed you would like to have it.”

Dean gulped and nodded, taking the shiny bottle and tucking it into his own pocket.

“When I make it home, I’ll give it back to Gabriel,” he stated.

For one of the rare few times, the king smiled.

“I’ve missed your optimistic bravery, Dean,” the angel muttered, though his face fell a bit. “With Gabriel gone, though, we will have to find an alternate way to get you back to your world. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

“Actually, I do,” Dean replied.

Cas tilted his head in wonder.

“Have you ever been to Kansas?” Dean asked. “There’s a Men of Letters bunker there, and it has everything a hunter would ever need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for that. :( Gabriel is my one of my favorite characters ever, and it brought me to tears to do this to him. But for this story, it was necessary. And remember, Dean’s Gabriel is perfectly fine. Just like he said, Sammy won’t ever let anything happen to him. ;) Man, this has been a rough year so far, hasn’t it? I’m sorry to add to the heartache with this dark chapter, but I promise that better, happier, more hopeful moments are ahead. Not just for this story, but for all of us. :) Next chapter will have some sweet Destiel fluff. I hope you stick around for it! Thank you for reading and commenting, you guys. You’re helping me get through this year more than you know. ;) Next chapter will be out soon! :)


	5. Chapter 5

With Gabriel, the last archangel, gone, Dean knew that the only chance he might have to get back home would be one of the ritual boxes hidden in the bunker. He couldn’t remember seeing one that created a portal to another universe, but he had to go there and search for it anyway. He had to try. Luckily, the king seemed willing to go along with the plan. He flew Dean back to the storage quarters first, though, and started rummaging through a few drawers near the far wall.

“Dean. There are a few things you must know before we travel to Earth.”

The sentence came out of King Cas’s mouth less like trivial sharing and more like a subtle, ominous warning. Dean’s head snapped to the angel in front of him, giving Cas his full attention. Whatever the guy was about to say would obviously be important.

“Due to nuclear warfare, Earth is now heavily radioactive,” Cas explained. “If you were to spend more than a few minutes breathing the air, your body would become dangerously toxic. In fact, when you were first brought here, I could already feel the change in your anatomy when I healed you. After stabbing you, that is… Again, my apologies…”

“It’s okay,” Dean breathed, too surprised by the current warning to really remember being stabbed.

The king bobbed his head and withdrew a small machine from the dresser he searched. At first, Dean thought it was an EMF reader; something he and Sammy used all the time. Except this one had bright yellow plastic.

“I have found these devices on the bodies of deceased humans. I believe they measure the amount of radiation in the air –”

“Geiger counter,” Dean suddenly remembered, taking it from Cas’s hand to look it over. “Yeah, I’ve never had to use one of these, but I know how they work.”

“Good. I would prefer it if you kept that device with you while above ground. That way, we will know how contaminated the air is. But more than that, I need you to remain next to me at all times,” the king requested in a serious tone. “Not only so that I can keep you safe, but also heal you with my grace if necessary. You must stay within my reach. Understand?”

Dean smirked when he nodded, enjoying the thought of Cas not wanting him to be out of his sight. Though Dean’s smile seemed to intrigue him a little, the king continued his debriefing.

“Earth is also the war zone between angels and demons. If we are spotted by celestial bodies there, a battle will undoubtedly ensue.”

“That’s fine,” Dean shrugged. “I can hold my own against –”

“No, Dean. We must avoid physical combat at all costs,” the king interrupted severely. “Our journey to this ‘bunker’ must go unnoticed by the enemy. They seek to destroy me and every last remaining shard of humanity. Should they even suspect your existence, we could be outnumbered and overpowered in an instant. Stealth is key. Please tell me you understand.”

Dean was no stranger to stealth missions. He would be able to sneak around no sweat, but he wondered…

“Yeah, I understand. But if it’s so dangerous, why don’t we take a few demons with us?”

Before he answered, the king took a long breath; probably trying to figure out the best way to phrase his next statement.

“To bring them with us would mean putting you at risk. I don’t trust the demons any more than the angels. Especially when it pertains to your safety,” he answered.

A weird sense of discomfort tightened Dean’s torso from the inside. He wasn’t _that_ important. Besides, Cas’s safety mattered, too. Arguably more than Dean’s.

“Well, your safety is important to me,” Dean challenged.

Instead of disputing the claim, Cas reached his free hand out to clasp Dean’s arm and flew. Dean only had time to blink once before he was standing in an entirely different place. The cluttered storage room was replaced with a wide, vacant stone chamber. The only thing in the area was a dark archway, which held shimmery air in the middle. Cas, with his hand still on Dean’s arm, looked around to make sure no one else was there before gently pulling Dean toward the arch.

“This is the only passage in or out of Hell,” the king whispered. “Come, Dean. We must go before someone sees us.”

Dean allowed Cas to guide him but ended up squinting his eyes as they passed through the vale. His last encounter with a portal didn’t go well, so he felt the need to be extremely cautious with this one. A weird sensation tickled his stomach when they went through, like the feeling of bunny hops on a roller coaster. He had to close his eyes so he wouldn’t get sick on accident. Warm air eventually brushed over his face when Cas stopped short, and the Geiger counter in Dean’s pocket instantly started ticking.

The static-like noise made Dean open his eyes to see where they were. The place looked like a hazy, abandoned movie set for an old western. Sand covered the ground, the sky was dark with overcast clouds, and hot air whipped around dust. The crackle of the Geiger counter made Dean nervous, so he attempted to hold his breath. It seemed to worry the king too, because the angel spun around to meet Dean’s sight with urgency.

“Dean, I need you to picture this bunker in your mind in as much detail as you can,” Cas said, reaching up to curl his palm against the man’s forehead. “I will attempt to fly us there. Quickly.”

Despite the dangerous atmosphere, Dean remained calm as he closed his eyes again. Remembering the bunker was a piece of cake. He chose the control room to focus on; the lit map table, tall panels of buttons and switches, the stairs that led into the study, even the four chairs – one for Sam, one for Gabe, one for Cas, and one for him – sitting around the table. A couple of beers were usually on the glowing surface, half empty and glistening with condensation. He pictured the curved metal stairs, stone floors, tiled walls, and the comfy feeling it gave him to be surrounded by it all… 

It wasn’t until the Geiger counter went silent that Dean opened his eyes. But he had to blink several times to make sure they were open because everything was still black. If it weren’t for Cas’s hand wrapped around his arm, Dean would have been tempted to freak out. Soon, though, the angel raised his free hand and let his grace glow, which illuminated the familiar comforts of Dean’s home. The table was right there in front of them, with the same map and everything! And there were chairs; more of them than Dean imagined, but they were there. This was the bunker. Dean was home in a different reality.

“Is this the correct place?” the king asked, his voice echoing slightly.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled, pointing toward the far wall. “There’s a big switch over there that should turn all the power on.”

Cas led Dean toward the direction, never letting go of his arm. When the switch came into view, the angel’s grace went out, temporarily leaving the place dark again while he flipped the heavy handle. After the loud ‘clack’, the lights overhead slowly flickered on, brightening the whole place and bringing everything into view. The bunker looked exactly the way Dean remembered when he and Sam found it. Dust and cobwebs were everywhere, like it had been waiting for decades for Dean to finally show up. The thought made him grin as he leaned over to touch the edge of the metal stair railing. 

The king appeared secretly mesmerized by the room, looking up with wide blue eyes to study the high ceilings before dropping all the way to the floor and the full study beyond.

“In your world… You and Sam… live here?” he carefully asked.

“Not just me and Sam,” Dean corrected, smiling toward the angel’s handsome face. “You live here, too.”

The mention of his inclusion turned the king slightly humble. He looked down bashfully and shifted his feet around a bit.

“What exactly are you trying to find here, Dean?” he mumbled.

The man chuckled once at the angel’s attempt to change the subject but answered as best he could.

“There are these boxes, chests, down in our dungeon that are full of ritual stuff –”

“In your _what_?” Cas blurted. 

Dean held back another laugh. Oh man, Cas was really out of his element… In an effort to make him more comfortable, Dean slowly stepped further into the bunker, delicately pulling Cas along by the latched hand on his arm.

“There’s a dungeon downstairs. Sam thinks the Men of Letters used it to interrogate monsters. But we mostly use it for storage now,” Dean explained. “Anyway, there are ritual boxes down there. Each box has all the ingredients you need for which ever spell is labeled on it. I figured there might be one for popping open a portal.”

“Prepackaged rituals,” Cas replied, sounding impressed. “Extremely convenient.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Dean agreed.

He spared a glance at Cas next to him – and for a split second, Dean felt right at home. He was walking along the bunker hallway, holding onto the angel he adored most, chatting about hunting like it was a normal day. Dean began to admire Cas’s dark head of hair – soft black strands that he loved raking his fingers through – and even glanced toward the angel’s plump lips, recalling the sweet taste of them. But then, he glanced down to the spot where Cas’s blue tie usually was, and his stomach lurched. There was no backwards tie. ‘ _This is not your Cas_ ,’ Dean had to remind himself. ‘ _This angel is the king of Hell, not your boyfriend..._ ’

“I find it fascinating that one could sustain a residence down here,” Cas mused, unintentionally snapping Dean from his thoughts. “Living underground away from the sunlight… That doesn’t bother you, Dean?”

Dean cleared his throat, trying to get the strange feeling in his gut to go away.

“Not really. I mean, it gives me more time to sleep. Plus, Sam and I go out almost every day for cases. We get plenty of vitamin D. I don’t know about Sammy, but I get extra ‘D’, if you know what I…”

Dean’s racy and humorous statement trailed off when he looked over to see Cas’s blank stare. There was no way the inept angel would ever understand what Dean meant unless the man spelled it out. To save himself the trouble and awkwardness, Dean just cleared his throat and walked quicker toward the next room.

“Anyway,” he mumbled, attempting to sound casual as he stopped to gesture to the open doorway, “This is the kitchen.”

Everything was exactly the way Dean remembered, only covered in dust. The dark wooden table, old stove and fridge, pantry to the right, and his favorite of all, the metal island in the center. Dean walked up to the steel surface, taking Cas along with him.

“This is my favorite room of the whole place,” the man confessed warmly as he touched the corner of the island. “I think it’s yours, too. Cas’s, I mean… We spend a lot of time in here.”

“We do?” the king asked, voice full of innocence.

“Yeah. You and I have…”

Once again, Dean stopped himself from finishing the sentence. God, it was so hard not to go into the naughty zone with this Cas. Dean was so used to making flirty, dirty comments to his boyfriend all the time that he didn’t realize how often he said them until he couldn’t anymore. The king, however, was already intrigued.

“We have what, Dean?” he asked quietly.

Though he knew it would probably make the angel uncomfortable, Dean decided to be honest.

“We have sex on this metal island,” he admitted, biting down a smirk as he patted the dusty corner. “A lot. Like, almost every time Sammy goes out. You and I end up here in the kitchen. Sammy, uh, he accidentally walked in on us one time,” Dean snickered, able to see his poor brother’s disgusted face in his mind. “He probably saw more ass than a donkey farm that night. Poor kid…”

With heat in his cheeks, Dean finally spared a glance toward the angel at his side. He was expecting to see a smile or embarrassment on the guy’s face, but instead, Cas was staring quizzically at the dusty surface. 

“Would you say that this spot is sentimental to… your Castiel?”

“Uh… yeah. I guess. Why?”

Cas didn’t reply. Instead, waved a glowing hand over the surface. Markings started to appear in dust swirls on the metal island, like runes on an old text. Dean knew right away that it was Enochian, but he wasn’t sure what it said. But then, dust covered it back up, making it invisible. Cas’s hand dimmed and lowered once he was done writing, but it left Dean baffled.

“Dude. What was that about?” he asked.

At first, it seemed like the king wasn’t going to answer. He glanced away, pretending he didn’t hear the question. But then, he sighed in defeat.

“A message,” he spat. “Contingency plan. Doesn’t matter. We must locate the ritual box.”

Dean was tempted to stop and make the king clarify what he meant, because he didn’t like being kept in the dark. But when he looked over to see those blue eyes, Dean remembered that Cas’s mind was as deep and mysterious as outer space. If he did something strange, it probably had meaning to it. The king had kept Dean alive so far. Why would he do anything that might endanger him now?

Despite his worry, Dean proceeded to lead Cas back out of the kitchen and down the hall. The stairway to the dungeon was farther ahead, but Dean knew that his bedroom came before it. It wasn’t just his bedroom, but the room he shared with Cas. Homesickness had taken root in his gut and he wanted to make another pitstop there.

“Can I show you something real quick?” the man asked quietly.

Dean expected the king to roll his eyes at the silly suggestion, but instead, Cas nodded gracefully. He seemed amused by Dean’s excitement to show off their home. Wearing a new smile, Dean stepped over to open the door and flip on the light switch. Everything inside was reset to the way Dean first found it; old dusty bed in the center, desk to the left, dresser to the right, lamps lit on the bedside tables. His few valuables – like the blade he made in Purgatory, the photos he kept on the nightstand, the TV he set up on the dresser – were not there, but it was the same at heart. He had so many good memories in this room. So many good nights of sleep. So many great conversations with Cas…

“A bedroom?”

Dean glanced to his angelic partner, who was clearly indifferent to the space.

“ _My_ bedroom,” Dean corrected. “And yours.”

A new blush appeared on Cas’s cheeks when he made eye contact with Dean. The angel’s hand felt fidgety on Dean’s arm.

“Oh… Did, um… Did you choose it yourself?” the king asked.

“Sure did,” Dean answered. “It’s one of the bigger ones and the closest to the kitchen. But that’s not the only reason I picked it.”

Cas tilted his head, silently asking why. Dean carefully pulled his arm out of Cas’s grasp, meeting the angel’s eyes to let him know it was okay, before walking over to the side of the dresser. Just as he had when he first moved in, Dean found the record player on the floor and picked it up. He placed it on the dresser before digging through the pile of records on the floor. He knew exactly which album to search for. Dean unsheathed the perfectly preserved vinyl and admired the black shine before placing it on the player and flipping the switch on. When the record started to spin, Dean brought the needle over to place it in the specific spot he had memorized. Then, Paul McCartney’s soulful voice filled the room, backed up by his heavenly piano.

_Hey Jude… Don’t make it bad…_

Damn. Dean loved that sound. It was like listening to his mother’s voice. His soul calmed immediately, and he felt right at home. After listening to the first few lyrics, Dean turned to look at Cas with the biggest smile. Cas looked shy and sweet as ever, hiding a smile of his own. Unable to resist time with his favorite angel, Dean held out his hand, gesturing Cas to come over. But Cas seemed lost. He only tilted his head in confusion. To help him, Dean stepped over and finally took the angel by the hand. Dean was already swaying, unable to deny the urge to move with the song, as he carefully placed Cas’s hand on his shoulder and took hold of the other.

“Dean –”

“Shhh…”

Dean wasn’t going to let this moment slip away without taking advantage of it. With one hand on Cas’s hip and the other leading him, Dean held the angel close and swayed around to the smooth melody. Cas, as usual, wasn’t very rhythmic, but slowly started to copy Dean’s steps. His apprehension was soon replaced with a somber smile; a look that said, ‘ _I don’t know what’s happening but I’m enjoying it._ ’ Dean always felt proud when he could do that to Cas; when he could put a smile on his pretty face and show him what it was like to feel human.

It wasn’t long before Dean rested Cas’s other hand on his shoulder and fully embraced him, hugging him close while they spun around in a slow, loose circle. The fabric texture of Cas’s warm coat under his hands and the feeling of Cas’s arms around his shoulders gave Dean the biggest sense of comfort. He loved being inside Cas’s hug. He adored the effortless affection between them; how easy it was to hold Cas and imagine that everything was right with the world. Dean briefly nuzzled his face against the side of Cas’s head and took a deep breath, harboring the angel’s scent in his lungs. God, Cas smelled so good. His hair was so soft. His heartbeat was directly against Dean’s.

Near the middle of the song, Dean finally raised his head to look into Cas’s eyes again. The powerful shade of blue nearly overwhelmed him. Their faces were only a few inches apart and moist with each other’s hot breath. Cas was wearing a look that Dean knew all too well. The angel wanted something that he couldn’t put into words. It was longing, and pain, and love, and grief, and joy, and everything he couldn’t say but wanted to express. His blue eyes flitted between Dean’s lips and eyes, back and forth as he eased closer. Dean was more than willing to meet Cas halfway, leaning in and opening his mouth, preparing to give him the sweetest kiss…

But then, the angel stopped and turned away. Dean’s heart broke instantly, surging with pain as he watched Cas’s face fill with concern. Not just worry, but urgency too. The angel was still as stone when his eyes flashed back to Dean in surprise.

“We are not alone.”

The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck and arms raised at the severity in Cas’s voice. Someone else was in the bunker with them? How? Who? Where? The king unwound himself from Dean and raised a hand toward the record player, flinging the needle off the vinyl with his grace to silence the room. Dean retrieved the chrome blade from his waist band and held it at the ready, eyeing the open door in suspicion and anger. Whoever was there had interrupted the first tender moment Cas had in ages. The sight of Dean holding his own weapon made the king anxious.

“Stay here, Dean.”

“But, Cas, I can –”

“That’s an order,” Cas demanded in a stern whisper.

Before Dean could argue, Cas disappeared from the spot he was standing in and the bedroom door across the room closed. Dean glared at the knob for a second, pissed that he was being treated like a child. What if someone dangerous had followed them into the bunker? What if Cas got hurt – or worse, _died_ – because Dean wasn’t there to back him up?! Then what would Dean do?!

“Screw that,” the man growled under his breath.

Confident in his combat skills, Dean stomped his way over to the door and cracked it open to peer out. The immediate area looked empty, but he could hear grunting and scuffling coming from down the hall. With his blade out in front of him, Dean inched into the corridor with his back to the wall and began sliding along the tile as quickly and silently as possible. From the sound, Dean imagined there were at least four or five people moving in the room. The thought of Cas being greatly outnumbered scared Dean enough to make him sprint down the hall and look into the room.

Four people – probably angels, given their polished suits – were actively assaulting Cas. They were all slowly pushing him toward a corner, striking tactically so that he wouldn’t realize his lack of surroundings. Some of them were speaking Enochian, asking him questions or taunting him. But Cas didn’t say a word. He ended up killing one, making it explode into a ball of light that Dean had to look away from. That seemed to set the others off. They sprang on Cas, who popped away just in the nick of time. Cas landed near the doorway – where his eyes met Dean’s and blasted wide in shock.

The distraction of seeing Dean threw poor Cas off his game. When the three angels lunged at him, Cas barely got out of the way, and the sleeve of his coat was sliced. The other angels unfortunately saw Dean too, and had to double take at him in surprise. Oh, shit. Now they were going to come after him, weren’t they? Good. It had been too long since Dean killed an angel…

The three angels dismissed Cas and came for Dean, glaring as they charged. Dean raised his own blade in preparation to stab the one in the middle – but Cas tackled them all out of the way. They fell into a huge pile on the floor before blinking out of sight. Dean was suddenly alone in the room, panting and holding his blade. Where the hell did they all go? Did they fly away or something? As Dean looked back out into the hall, he could hear noises coming from below his feet. The angels were now fighting in the lower part of the bunker.

Desperate to keep Cas safe, Dean hushed down the hall to the stairs and took them two at a time, searching ahead for any stray enemies. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, Dean could smell smoke. It was coming from the storage rooms to his left. Feeling the urge to panic, Dean rushed toward the scent and could see orange light of flames coming from the closest room. Dean gasped and ran, unable to get the image of Cas burning out of his head. He couldn’t let Cas burn to death! Not like that nightmare!

The four remaining angels were all inside, surrounded by fire. Two of them were setting the flames on the walls while the other focused on Cas. Dean waited until the closest angel had its back turned before dashing in to plunge his blade into its back. Another bomb of light lit up the area and Dean barely had time to cover his eyes. The light unfortunately caught the attention of the other two, and they bounded toward Dean with fury. Dean attempted to swiftly back out of the room and lead them away from Cas, but fire caught on the back of his jeans and made him stop in the doorway. He could feel the heat of it burning his leg but had to ignore it to focus on the threat in front of him.

Cas shouted something in Enochian that made the angels stop and turn toward him with blades up. Dean was shocked to see them turn away from him and go back to Cas. Whatever he said must have pissed them off, because they walked through a wall of fire just to get to him. Dean quickly patted out the flames on his leg before rushing forward to help. Cas was grappling with one angel, trying to keep their blade away, but didn’t see the angel coming up behind him. The chrome glinted against the orange flames and caused Dean’s instincts to kick in. Without thinking, Dean threw himself between Cas’s back and the blade that came toward it. The sharp end found Dean’s shoulder and made the man howl in pain before he reached up to stab the angel in front of him. It exploded on impact, making him close his eyes again as he slumped to the floor.

“Dean!”

The man heard Cas’s voice but was in too much pain to look back. Another flash of light came from behind Dean, making him scramble in a panic, thinking that Cas had been hurt. But it was the other angel. Cas had killed it and he and Dean were finally alone. Dean sighed with relief, unintentionally filling his lungs with smoke as he reached toward Cas. The angel popped over, took Dean by the shoulders, and instantly flew him out of the room.

Dean coughed and tried to catch his breath as he looked around. They were in one of the upper hallways of the bunker, safely away from the fire. Cas propped Dean up against the tiled wall and Dean could see raw emotion painted across the angel’s face. The sight of an angel blade sticking out of Dean’s shoulder horrified him. Cas got to work removing the thing, holding Dean’s shoulder with a shaky hand as he wiggled the blade out of Dean’s collar bone.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Dean shouted through gritted teeth, punching the floor to fight the pain.

Dean panted until the blade was out and Cas replaced the bloody spot with his glowing hand. Dean leaned back against the wall and exhaled, enjoying the sensation of Cas’s grace healing him. It even soothed the burned skin on the back of his leg. Unfortunately, once Dean was healed, Cas’s gentle hand morphed into a tight, unforgiving clench.

“ _I told you to stay put, Dean!_ ” Cas barked into Dean’s face, glaring, though his eyes were wet. “ _You were supposed to do as I say, damn you! You should have listened to me!_ ”

“Cas, I’m sorry –”

“ _Apologies will not bring you back from the dead! Once you are gone, you are gone forever! Don’t you understand?!_ ” Cas shouted, his deep voice cracking with emotion, “ _I cannot lose you, Dean! I will not let you die again! I cannot! I will not!_ ” 

Cas glared at Dean for a few more seconds, holding fistfuls of Dean’s shirt and jacket, before he whimpered and buried his face into Dean’s shoulder. Dean instantly wrapped both arms around Cas at the weird angle, trying his best to comfort him. Cas’s behavior suddenly made sense. The reason Cas kept Dean locked away wasn’t because he didn’t trust Dean or his skills, but because he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him again. Dean’s death in this universe had a catastrophic impact on Cas’s entire being, and now that Dean was back again, Cas was going to do everything in his power to save him…

Dean wanted to mention the fact that Cas would have died if Dean hadn’t been there to wedge himself between him and that angel blade, but he didn’t bring it up. He just held the angel close and tried to console him.

“I’m here, Cas. I’m right here with you,” Dean assured in a whisper.

Out of the blue, Cas’s sniffles stopped and his head raised up. His ocean eyes were filled with tears, but his expression was one of caution; like he was listening closely to something. Dean paused to listen to the air too, but he couldn’t hear anything.

“More angels are coming,” Cas stated, nearly jumping to his feet and hoisting Dean up. “Come. We must leave.”

“Wait. What about the portal stuff?” Dean asked, suddenly realizing, “ _Shit!_ It’s all downstairs!”

The man and the angel both ran for the stairs nearby, where flames were reaching up from the bottom floor. Dean backed up to avoid them, but Cas stepped forward to blast it with his grace. An icy breeze cut through the flames, making it all die down and turn into smoldering ashes. Dean came forward again to peer down the stairs, but there was nothing but ashy darkness down there. If there was a ritual box for opening portals, would there be anything left of it to use? Cas flew away from the spot he was standing in, briefly leaving Dean alone. He was back in a few seconds, covered in soot with a devastated look on his face.

“Everything is destroyed,” the angel relayed sadly.

“But… But there could be something else in this bunker that might help us. Cas, this place is full of –”

“A battalion of angels is on its way to this very location. They will find those bodies and know we were here. Dean,” Cas said, shaking his head. “We must leave.”

Dean felt like arguing to stay and Cas could see it on his face. They couldn’t leave yet! This was Dean’s only chance to get back home! Despite those facts, Cas still took Dean by the arm and flew him away. As soon as his feet found solid ground, the Geiger counter on his belt started ticking briefly. They were in front of the portal to Hell, but Dean only saw a glimpse of it before Cas pulled him through it and flew again. In less than a minute, Dean was standing inside Cas’s storage quarters again, next to the paintings, sculptures, and everything else that meant a lot to Cas...

Dean and Cas both only stood next to each other in silence for a while. The man had no idea what to say. His last shot at getting home was ruined. What were they going to do now? How were they going to get a portal open before a war broke out? Was he ever going to see Sammy again? Was he ever going to see his beloved Cas again? Strangely, Dean corrected his own thoughts, and reminded himself that all he had to do to see Cas was look over his shoulder.

Dean did just that, finally turning his head to see the angel standing near him. The strong emotion that had been on Cas’s face was gone and replaced with his usual stoicism. Except for his eyes. Those sapphire orbs were tinted with secret pain and anxiousness. He must have felt Dean’s stare because he soon looked back at him.

“I, um… I have one more idea that might get you home,” the angel said lowly, “but I have to check on something first. Could you… Could you wait here for me? Please?”

Dean nodded. He wasn’t about to argue with Cas anymore. Fighting wasn’t good for either of them. The king bowed his head, untangling his stare from Dean’s.

“I will return to you shortly,” he promised.

Dean gazed at the angel until he disappeared, then blinked at the empty spot for a while. He was feeling so much devastation and hopelessness from not being able to get a ritual box from the bunker that numbness had slowly taken over. If he had only went straight to the basement. If he had just walked passed the kitchen. If he had just left the record player alone…

No. Dean may have blown his shot with the ritual box, but he wasn’t sorry for the dance he shared with Cas. Both of them needed that moment alone together. They needed to hold each other, listen to that sweet song, and forget about the horrible world they were standing in. They needed comfort, especially after what happened to poor Gabriel. It was one of the few times Dean had ever danced.

To keep his mind off things, Dean wandered over to the broken vending machine and grabbed a bag of chips. He torn the plastic open and slid a chip into his mouth, crunching it slowly as he stared off in thought. He was curious about what Cas had in mind, and wondered what he could possibly be doing.

But then, the door opened, and footsteps came into the room.

Dean finished chewing the rest of his chip, feeling rushed. When Cas said he would return shortly, he really meant it.

“That was fast,” Dean mentioned, turning around, “What did you –”

The eyes that met Dean’s weren’t blue, but jet black. It was a male demon that Dean didn’t recognize. He was standing in the room, flanked by two other demons. And they were all smirking.

“Nighty-night,” the middle one hissed.

Before Dean could raise a hand to defend himself, he was bashed over the head with something heavy, and his eyes closed as he slumped to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh! Not another cliffhanger! (You guys know I love you, right? I love you!) XD So, I have a huge fascination with post-apocalyptic tales, (‘The Road’ by Cormac McCarthy is one of my favorite books, the Fallout Series is one of my favorite videos games, etc.) which is why I gave Dean a Geiger counter in this chapter. It’s mostly because I’m a huge nerd. Sorry, Dean. XD I know some of you are probably like, “ _The bunker has been abandoned since the 1930s or ‘40s, Snail. There wouldn’t be Beatles records there._ ” Yes, I know. But I had to sneak ‘Hey Jude’ into this story somewhere! Jude would kill me if I didn’t mention him in a story about his parents! ;D Also, when the angels were fighting, I pictured Cas acting like Dumbledore when he fought Voldemort in the Order of the Phoenix, always pushing Harry (Dean) out of the way to keep him safe. ;) I hope that the bit of fluff in this chapter was able to make up for last week. Next week will have even more fluff. ;) Guys, thank you so much for reading and commenting on this story. The encouragement I get from you guys helps me in ways I can’t explain, and I am so thankful for all of you! *hugs* The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some more sad parts in this chapter. I’m so sorry for the feels, but happier times are coming. I promise! XD Thank you, and enjoy!

The pain throbbing from the back of Dean’s head was so intense that it brought him back to consciousness. It felt like his head was slowly rumbling across a stone floor, which made it difficult to think at first. He could feel that his feet were locked together and held up high, while his arms were behind his back and there was an uncomfortable gag in his mouth. But he was moving; being pulled by his ankles, being dragged somewhere. Blood was surging in his ears and neck. How long had he been like this? Where was he? Who was pulling him?

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

Dean’s ears perked up a little at the sound of someone talking. It was male, whispering low, somewhere in front of him. Though his head rattled on the floor, Dean tried to listen.

“Not this shit again. Just shut up and stick to the plan,” a different voice hissed.

“But, what if –”

“Stop. Talking.”

It went silent for a few minutes, during which Dean could hear distant chatter, like they were going through a semi-crowded place. Ugh, Dean’s head was _aching_. He could barely keep his thoughts together. His wrists were tied so tightly that his hands were numb. He could barely flex his fingers, let alone figure out a way to break out of the bind.

“The King won’t like this.”

Dean’s eyes flashed open at the mention of the king, though all he saw was darkness. The king. _Cas_. They were talking about Cas. Oh, God, that guy was right. Cas was going to be so pissed if Dean wasn’t in that storage room when he came back...

“No shit, Sherlock. That’s the whole damn point. And I thought I told you to stop talking?!”

“I’m just saying. The second he finds out, we’re all – ”

Dean felt himself abruptly halt on the floor and heard a loud punch. Though he couldn’t see it, he was pretty sure the second guy hit the first.

“He’s _not_ gonna find out. Not until it’s too late. You hear me?” 

Too late? Dammit, what were they going to do to Dean? Take him somewhere and kill him? Neither one of his beloved Castiels would like that very much… The first voice was quiet, only sniffling a little like he had a bloody nose, but then muttered under his breath.

“You… You really think this will work? I mean, what if that’s not the real Dean Winchester?”

“It is the real one. Why else would the king keep him locked in that room? You remember the king ever keeping one without killing it before? And what about Dean’s face, huh? It was all shiny and clean when we took him. You think the king would have kept a fake one in such good condition?”

Dean’s heart pounded in his chest. Shit. Demons were smarter than he took them for…

“… No,” the first answered. “But how are we supposed to get passed that anti-possession mark he’s got?”

There was a loud sigh of frustration before Dean felt his feet hit the floor. Whoever was holding them had dropped the dead weight, but Dean didn’t move. He was in too much pain to properly break free and fight. Instead, he listened to the best of his ability.

“Look, you pathetic bastard. This is the last time I’m going over this with you, so pay attention,” the second voice snapped. “We’re gonna take this ‘Dean’ thing to the inferno room and burn that tattoo. Then, one of us is gonna possess his meatsuit and hide in that room full of junk. And as soon as we’ve got the king alone,” A loud whack came from somewhere nearby, which sounded like metal hitting stone. “… we kill him. And finally take this place back.”

Dean may have felt groggy before, but he was totally awake now. Son of a bitch. Those assholes were planning to possess him. But worse than that, they were doing it to get to Cas. So that they could _kill the poor angel!_ No! Dean couldn’t let that happen! He had to stop it!

The problem was that Dean was completely tied up with some kind of bag over his head. If he made the slightest move, it would give away that he was awake and alert, and his captors would probably knock him out all over again. Dammit. How was he going to get out of this situation? While he struggled to come up with a plan, Dean felt his ankles being lifted up from the floor.

“Now. Unless you want a halo-wearing prick bossing you around for the rest of eternity, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and follow us to the inferno chamber,” the second voice spat.

Silence returned and Dean’s body started moving again. His head bounced on the stone floor, making it hard to string his thoughts together. He knew had to stop this, but he had to be smart about it, too. Being as discrete as possible, Dean attempted to work his wrists out of their binds. Unfortunately, the more he wiggled, the tighter they got. His hands were probably bound with zip ties or something, which wasn’t good. He would need something sharp to break out with, but what?

That was when he heard a familiar voice. It was one he usually hated, but couldn’t have been more grateful to hear in that moment.

“What have you got there?” Meg’s tone was as smooth as silk, just like always.

The people who had Dean hesitated to answer at first, which was probably what tipped Meg off. Meg was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

“… A soul. Assigned to the inferno,” one answered.

“Really?” Meg purred, her voice closer than before. “Which soul?”

Another moment of silence. Geez, these idiots sucked at lying…

“… Some lawyer, I think. Boss wants it taken to the inferno as soon as possible,” the other lied.

“Uh-huh… Let me see its face. I’ll tell you which one it is.”

Dean smirked a little around his gag inside the black hood. Despite their romantic rivalry for Cas, Dean had to give it to Meg. She knew these idiots were lying and she wasn’t about to let them walk away until they did as she said… But what would happen if she saw Dean’s face? Would she let the demons take him to get possessed? Tortured? Dean decided that if they opened the hood, he would try to warn her about their plan to kill Cas. She loved Cas too, right? Meg might have hated Dean, but she wouldn’t let anything happen to Cas…

“This soul is not important. Trust me,” one of the demons tried to persuade. “We just need to get it to the –”

“Sounds to me like you’re refusing to follow a direct order,” Meg interrupted in a sharp tone. “Take off the hood. Now.”

Dean was rather enjoying listening to Meg put the demons in their place. But he knew that now the two groups were at an impasse. If the demons did what she said, she might stop them. If they didn’t, they’d probably get punished somehow, and lose Dean anyway. The quiet stretched on for a few seconds, during which Dean debated whether he should make a muffled plea to Meg or not. But then, his ankles were dropped to the floor again.

“You know what? How about you piss off instead? I don’t take orders from you anymore, you angel-cock sucking, fat-assed, two-timing bitch.”

Despite the gag in it, Dean’s mouth fell open even further. Oh, shit. Meg wasn’t going to let that go, was she? Judging from the sudden sounds of grunting and clanking metal that erupted near Dean, Meg was clearly taking up for herself. She was fighting the demons, but how many were there? Where any of them going to come to her aid? Dean couldn’t see out of the black hood wrapped around his head. Meg probably needed help. How could Dean help her?

“ _Currrs_!” Dean whined, attempting to pray Cas’s name through his muffled mouth, “Currrs, helf!”

Ugh, his words weren’t coming out very clearly. Oh God, what if Cas couldn’t hear him? What if those demons got passed Meg and dragged Dean to the inferno room, just like they wanted?! On the floor, Dean tried to wiggle away, kicking his joined legs like a fish out of water. He could hear Meg’s panting voice and stabbing sounds, but he had no idea what was going on – until he felt a pair of hands grab his hood and yank it off.

“Dean!”

The man blinked up at the handsome angel hovering over him, finally able to relax a little. Oh, thank Chuck. Cas heard his muffled prayer. In a frenzy, Cas took the gag out of Dean’s mouth and rolled him over to effortlessly snap the binds from around Dean’s wrists. The angel seemed highly distraught; as if he had been frantically searching for Dean for a while. When Dean’s arms were free, Cas took the man’s face in his hands to look him over with intensity.

“A – are you alright?! Are you hurt?!”

“Meg,” Dean exclaimed.

He pointed forward to show Cas the battle happening in front of them. Meg was trying to hold off three demons by herself, standing up against a wall and fighting with a blade in each hand. Cas instantly sprang to his feet, flying over to join the fight. He rammed his hand against the forehead of one demon, burning it alive with his brilliant grace. Its ear-shattering scream bounced off the walls and turned the other two even more violent.

In defiance, one of the demons raised an angel blade high – and jammed it straight into Meg’s throat.

Dean gasped out loud and attempted to get up but ended up falling back over because his ankles were still tied together. Cas saw what happened too, and flew over to vaporize both demons on the spot, causing the area to fill briefly with light. Dean shielded his eyes and turned away, unable to stand the brightness. After the shine dimmed and it got quiet, Dean raised his head to search for Cas.

Cas had taken Meg into his arms and was carefully lowering her into the floor. Meg was clutching her bloody throat around the blade sticking out of it, gurgling and sputtering in an attempt to breathe. Cas gently eased to his knees to lay her down and hold her head, wearing the best comforting expression he could though his eyes were large with emotion.

“Shh… Shh,” Cas panted in a soothing tone, staring down at Meg’s gasping mouth and terrified expression. “It’s – It’s alright, Meg. I am here with you.”

Meg gurgled again, coughing up blood that splattered some of Cas’s coat. Cas tried to calm her, gently shushing her and cradling her head to his chest. Part of Dean wondered why Cas wasn’t healing her, but then he remembered that Meg was a demon and celestial grace was lethal to her. Cas couldn’t help her even if he wanted to, which made the entire situation even worse. Meg was dying in Cas’s arms. And Cas couldn’t do anything but watch. Meg seemed to know this, too. Her fearful expression slowly turned understanding and somewhat peaceful as she blinked up at Cas. Her left hand, covered in fresh blood, shakily raised up and cupped the side of Cas’s face, to which Cas teared up and leaned against it.

Then, the demonic aura flickered out of Meg’s body. Her hand slipped away from Cas’s face, painting five red streaks of blood across his cheek, chin, and bottom lip from each of her fingers. And she was soundless and still in the angel’s arms. Dean could feel hot tears racing down his own face as he looked from Meg back up to Cas. The angel only sat there with a blank look on his face for a few seconds, seeming unable to process that his most cherished ally and friend had just died in his arms. The blood on his face and clothes made Dean ache on the inside.

Meg probably knew Dean was under that hood. She saved Dean because she knew he meant a lot to Cas. Meg was loyal to the king. So loyal that she even gave her life for him…

On bent knees and bound ankles, Dean slid across the floor to get closer to Cas. The angel was kneeling on the floor surrounded by the bodies of dead demons with Meg in his arms, yet his mind seemed far away. His blue eyes were open but vacant. Dean could only imagine what the guy was thinking.

“Cas?” he whispered. “I’m… I’m so sorry, man… She tried to save me… Those other bastards took me from your room. They were gonna use me to kill you. I think she figured it out… I – I’m so sorry…”

At the end of his last sentence, Dean reached out to touch the back of Cas’s hand. But at the touch, the angel withdrew his own hand to look at the blood on it. Emotion was slowly pouring back into his eyes, fury and anguish, as he clinched his hand into a red fist. Cas leaned forward to carefully lay Meg’s body down on the floor next to Dean, situating her limp arms against her stomach. The angel bent over to press a small kiss to the demon’s forehead before reaching over to take up his bloody blade.

Dean watched from the floor as Cas proceeded to get up and walk around, quickly sawing the heads from the dead demon’s bodies with his blade. Dean wondered what he was doing but knew better than to ask. Cas was _not_ in any state for talking. The king was anger incarnate, the embodiment of vengeance and outrage. With three heads dangling by the hair from one of his hands, Cas stomped over and grabbed Dean with the other. The man braced himself, unsure of what the king was going to do to him.

With a tug and some grace, Cas had flown himself and Dean to a different part of Hell. Dean drank in his surroundings, realizing that he was still on the floor, but near a balcony overlooking a huge area full of demons. Dean grabbed a couple of bars and looked down between them to see the crowd. It was almost like a market square, where hundreds of demons were bidding on souls, trading, talking, and carting cages around. The stench rising up was unbelievable. The sight of so many demons made Dean’s skin crawl.

Cas swept up to the railing of the high balcony – and started chucking all of the decapitated heads toward the massive crowd. They fell like basketballs, hitting some people, but causing everyone to look up to see where they came from. The loud crowd slowly quieted with gasps and whispers, but Cas stood as firmly as a statue.

“ _Let this serve as a warning to all would-be traitors_ ,” the king shouted, his holy voice echoing through the flame-ridden square. “ _It was an angel who saved you from outright destruction. And should you go against me, it will be the same angel who turns you into ash. Salvation is optional. Death is not. Mark my words: If you stand against me, you will meet the same fate as these wretched few. The word mercy is no longer part of my vocabulary. Commit that to your memory_.”

Dean felt like a child on the floor, hands shivering around the cold bars in his hands. He had never been truly afraid of Cas until that moment. There was no sympathy in the angel’s voice. No trace of the warm, loving soul that Dean adored. The king was just that; a royal king who had just foiled an assassination attempt on his own life and witnessed the death of his closest friend. He was battle-hardened and brokenhearted with no remorse left to give…

The king’s icy speech left the demon-filled square in total silence. Their faces were all full of shock and worry, but Cas’s was stern and unforgiving. When the angel finally turned toward him, Dean curled up and tried to make himself as small as possible – a reflex from his childhood, when his angry father looked at him. But Cas didn’t strike him, of course. The king just reached down and grabbed Dean’s shoulder to fly him away.

They were back in the storage room among Cas’s precious things again. Dean recognized the vending machine and paintings instantly. Cas didn’t say a word as he reached down to snap the final bind from Dean’s ankles, freeing him completely. Dean remained sitting on the floor as Cas trudged to the door and stopped to raise his hand toward it. In a hoarse voice, Cas chanted some kind of spell in Enochian, which made fragments of symbols appear on the door. Though he couldn’t confirm it, Dean assumed that the king was putting up a ward to keep all the demons out.

Now that they were alone again, Dean figured he needed to say something. Cas was obviously hurting on the inside, still devastated about losing Meg so horrifically. The least Dean could do was say a kind word.

But the king opened the door and left the room before Dean could bring himself to speak.

* * *

Nearly two and a half hours passed. Dean knew because he kept staring at his watch, eying the flicking hands as they made their way around the numbered dial. The back of his head was killing him, but staring at the watch made him feel a little better. It did not, however, get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach. How much time did he have left before the war started?

Dean didn’t realize how much he missed Sam until he wanted to talk to him and couldn’t. Clearly, Dean had taken his brother’s presence for granted. But that was so easy to do when he was with Sammy _all the time_. Now that he was alone, Dean was lost. He needed to ask Sam for advice. He needed a beer with his brother. He wanted to look into Sam’s eyes and know that at least one thing was okay. And poor Cas… Cas just wasn’t the same here.

‘ _You’re doing the best you can, Dean_ ,’ he imagined Sammy saying with wisdom. ‘ _Just be there for Cas and let him know he’s not alone. Everything is going to work out._ ’

“Easy for you to say… You’re not even here right now,” Dean spat into the silence. “Besides, it’s my fault Meg’s dead.”

‘ _No, it’s not. You didn’t know it would happen, Dean_.’

“I could have helped. I should have done more.”

‘ _You didn’t know, man. Stop beating yourself up. You do this every time_.’

“It’s true every time…”

The conversation in his head only made Dean feel lonelier – and a little crazy. But it was all he could do to fill the void. Despite the awkwardness, he was happy to talk to Sam in his mind. It might not have been real, but it did make him feel a better. Just like the real Sam always did… God, Dean hoped that kid was still alright…

Time and time again, Dean found himself caressing the coat strap on his forearm and thinking of Cas. His boyfriend. The one who didn’t have to live through the Winchester’s deaths nor the death of his good friends. Dean’s boyfriend was innocent and pure; unspoiled by devastation and loss. Somehow, it made Dean feel worse for the king. The poor guy had lost everything… yet he was still holding on. Why? What could possibly be worth all the heartache and pain?

Seemingly out of the blue, the storage room door creaked open.

Dean instantly sat up and turned around, nervous to see what was going to come inside. Luckily, it was only Cas. The king seemed much more somber, now. He was walking slowly with his head down, which Dean found a little odd. Why didn’t Cas just fly in? Unfortunately, Meg’s blood was still on his clothes and face. And now, he was carrying her feminine leather jacket in his hands.

Dean slowly rose to his feet because it seemed like the polite thing to do. He opened his mouth to say a greeting or something nice, but nothing came out. Instead, he only watched Cas shuffle forward to delicately lay Meg’s jacket on his desk, right next to his jar of honey. Cas’s hands, stained dark red, remained on the fabric even after he put it down. Dean wondered what Cas had done with her body. Had he taken her somewhere to bury? Did he give her a hunter’s funeral, like he did for the Winchesters? Dean wouldn’t have been offended by it. Meg might have been a demon, but she had obviously earned her right to sit at the hunter’s table. Though he knew he needed to say something, Dean wasn’t the first to speak.

“How are you feeling, Dean?”

The king didn’t look at him when he said it. His eyes were still on the jacket, but his voice was soft.

“I’m fine, Cas,” Dean answered quietly. “How are you, man?”

The king shook his head of dark hair.

“It’s not of import.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. Cas’s words sounded a little slurred. The more Dean looked at him, the more he noticed that Cas was swaying a little on his feet. Dean took a step closer and breathed deep, expecting to smell alcohol on the angel. But he didn’t. If Cas was drunk, it wasn’t from booze.

“You sure? You, uh, look a little wobbly,” Dean pointed out.

“Yes,” Cas huffed. “I said it’s not of –”

The angel turned to walk and nearly fell over, catching himself on the edge of the table. Dean instantly reached out to grab both of Cas’s arms and keep him on his feet. Cas’s blue eyes seemed drained and his face was pale under the smears of blood.

“Yes, it _is_ important,” Dean grumbled, his chest full of worry. “Come over here and sit down.”

Cas didn’t resist when Dean walked the angel across the room and sat him in a chair. Cas fell into it and slumped forward, breathing hard and looking like he was going to fall forward. Dean pulled the other chair closer and sat down to inspect the angel before him. Cas looked exhausted; pale and dry like he was getting sick and could hardly hold his head up. Dean couldn’t stand seeing the blood on Cas’s face, so he started to slide out of his own jacket and grab a nearby bottle of water.

“What’s going on? Are you sick or something?” Dean asked as he worked.

The king took a few deep breaths while Dean poured some water on the edge of his coat sleeve. Once he wet the fabric, Dean raised Cas’s head up by the chin and started to carefully wipe the blood off the poor guy. In the meantime, Cas’s eyes roamed all over Dean’s face. He could feel them circling.

“My grace… doesn’t replenish itself like it used to,” the king admitted. “I wasted a great deal of it sealing this room… and hunting down traitors… and saying my last farewell to Meg…”

Dean gulped as he wiped the maroon marks from Cas’s cheek. He could practically see Meg touching Cas’s face for the last time in his mind again…

“Well, you need to stop using it so much. If it runs out, you’ll die,” Dean replied.

“Everyone dies, Dean,” the king muttered sadly.

Dean firmly shook his head as he wiped the side of Cas’s ear off.

“Not everybody. Not on my watch.”

Dean’s statement caused a tiny smile to appear on Cas’s pale lips.

“You are… so admirable, Dean,” the angel whispered.

Though he felt like rolling his eyes, Dean resisted the urge. It was nice to hear the warmth back in Cas’s deep voice again. As Dean moved to finish cleaning the last part of Cas’s chin and bottom lip, he noticed that curiosity and longing had surfaced on the angel’s face. Cas’s blue eyes were blinking slowly at him, studying his every move. One of Cas’s hands came up to hold onto the back of Dean’s wrist, gently keeping him close.

“… Why didn’t he love me?”

Dean’s hand stopped and he met Cas’s stare to look him over. Cas didn’t say ‘she.’ He wasn’t talking about Meg. Cas said ‘he’. The guy was talking about Dean. The other Dean; the one that died. He was asking why Dean didn’t love him… but Dean himself knew the truth. After gulping again, Dean finally said something he always needed to say.

“… He did love you,” the man confessed in a whisper, unable to look away from Cas’s eyes. “Ever since the day he first laid eyes on you. You changed his mind. You changed his _heart_. You flipped his whole world upside down. You saved him from himself, Cas. And he never forgot it.”

Though Dean was speaking straight from the heart, Cas’s expression remained skeptical and saddened. But Dean had to make him believe it. It was the most honest thing in the world.

“I know he didn’t tell you,” Dean said softly as he rubbed his thumb over Cas’s chin. “But please don’t think less of him for not saying it. He never got the chance. If he was standing here right now, he would tell you… Hell, _I’ll_ tell you. I’ll say it for him,” Dean huffed, feeling his heartrate go up the longer he looked into his favorite shade of sapphire. “I _love you_ , Cas. You mean everything to me. You always have. Thank you for saving my life. I owe you everything. And I’m sorry I never got to – ”

Before Dean realized it, his voice was muffled by Cas’s mouth. The angel’s tongue met his own and the taste exploded, sending his blood pressure skyrocketing. His eyes closed on their own and he found himself incapable of forming coherent thoughts. All he knew was that if felt so damn good to finally kiss his favorite angel. A tiny hum reverberated in Cas’s deep voice as the angel’s fingers held Dean’s face, which made jolts shoot straight to Dean’s dick. And Dean kissed back as hard as he could, reaching up to tug at Cas’s tie like he always did –

But it wasn’t there.

This Cas didn’t belong to him. He was the king. And Dean’s tongue was in his mouth.

Overcome with surprise and guilt, Dean carefully shook himself out of the kiss. The two of them both panted and looked in different directions, filling the room with the sound of breath as their lips tingled. Dean saw the coat strap tied to his forearm and started trembling. Oh, shit. What about Cas? If he ever saw his Cas again, how was he going to explain this?

Though they were no longer kissing, Dean and the king’s hands were still tangled together. Strangely, Dean didn’t want to let go. He held on for dear life, as if he was strapped into a roller coaster he couldn’t get off of. But he couldn’t bring himself to look at Cas’s eyes, either. He knew that they were full of pain and confusion and he wasn’t brave enough to witness it… In saving the heart of one Cas, Dean had ruined the other…

“F – Forgive me,” the king whispered, his voice breaking. “That was inappropriate… I just… I had to know what it felt like…” 

Dean swallowed harshly, still tasting Cas’s kiss on his tongue. He attempted to find something to say that would smooth the whole situation over. But it was useless.

Despite his weakened grace and emotionally compromised state, Cas flew away from the chair he had been sitting in. Once again, Dean was left alone in the storage quarters. Only this time, he had half an erection and a mountain of guilt to keep him company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for killing Meg like that. :( She deserved better, just like everyone else. If Cas wasn’t alive, this would be the worst timeline ever. (Thank Chuck Dean still has Cas.) I know the opening was totally cliché, with the villains spouting off an evil monologue right in front of the protagonist. But come on, it was at least entertaining, right? (I’ll try to do better. I promise. Lol) ;D One of my favorite things about Cas is his ability to go from sweet and innocent to deadly and merciless in no time, which is why his ‘Castiel’ side came out in this chapter. He would make an awesome king, in my opinion. ;) I know things look dicey between Dean and the king right now, but I’m hoping to work it all out. Which reminds me…
> 
> Since you all are reading this in its WIP stage, I would like to ask you for advice. (Please note that there are potential spoilers ahead, so if you’re not comfortable with that, just disregard this question.) During planning for this story, it was my intention to write a smut scene between Dean and king Cas. Out of context, that makes Dean sound like a terrible boyfriend, however, he has a strong reason to believe that he will die in this universe and it might be his last chance to spend time with Cas in any capacity. Now that I’ve completed most of the story, I’m wondering if that might be taking it over the line. Since you’ve read along with this story from the beginning, I would like to hear your opinion on whether I should still include the smut or not. I will take all of your feedback into account when writing next week’s chapter, so please let me know what you think. You guys mean the world to me and I do not want to disappoint you! :) Chuck bless you for being a blessing in my life! 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! And for, of course, sharing your feedback. I love you all! :) The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Careful! One pipping hot order of feels is comin' right up!

Dean didn’t fully understand the concept of feeling lonely until he was in the king’s quarters by himself.

When Sam went off to college and their Dad was on a hunt, Dean would spend weeks at a time without anyone around. If he got too lonely, he just hit up a bar or two; play pool with the locals, chat up the waitresses, challenge other guys to drinking contests. Over the years, though, Dean had come to rely on his brother for companionship. Sam was more than just a younger sibling, he was Dean’s best friend. The kid was annoying sometimes, sure. But he was always there. Dean could talk to Sam about anything… and he really wished Sam was there in that moment so that they could discuss what happened.

The king and Dean had kissed. Not a peck on the lips, but a full on, unrestrained, raw, passionate kiss. Usually, the idea of making out with Cas got Dean’s motor humming in seconds, but now it was only making his skin crawl. How could he have done that? It was Cas, but it wasn’t _his_ Cas. Dean’s Cas was back home without any knowledge of what just happened. What would he say if he found out? Oh God, what if he wanted to break up? What if it pissed him off – or worse, broke his heart – so badly that he flew away and never came back? Dean physically doubled over in his chair to put his head between his knees and close his eyes. No, that couldn’t happen! Dean couldn’t live without Cas! That angel was Dean’s soulmate! His everything! Oh God, how could he have screwed things up so royally?

Dean tried to imagine what Sam might say, but his head was too full of anxiety to really come up with a clear answer. Really, all Dean could do was worry. His mind, weak with exhaustion, was jumping from one terrible thought to the next; what if Cas left Dean because of that kiss? What if Cas, Sam, and Gabe were dead on the other side? What if Dean never made it back home? What if he died here, in some twisted version of Hell with Cas as king?

The room was so silent that Dean could hear the tick of his wristwatch close to his ear. Time was running out. Soon, fleets of angels would arrive and kill everything in sight. A few hours. That was all Dean may have had left to live. What if, years from now, Sam and Cas found a way to make it to this world and ended up finding Dean’s body? Would they take it home? Would they know it was really him? The thought made Dean more anxious than anything. If he was going to die here, he wanted his body to be found by his family. They were going to need that finality; undeniable proof that he really was gone. Otherwise, they wouldn’t stop trying to save him. He knew it.

With a shaky hand, Dean dug the cell phone out of his pocket and clicked the screen on. The battery in the upper corner only held 13% power. But that would be enough, he hoped. Dean forced himself to pull up the camera and turn it around to selfie mode – something he never did unless he wanted to scope out the spot behind him. When the screen showed his face, Dean was surprised to see how much dirt was on it. He could hardly see his freckles for all the grime and facial hair. He was in dire need of a shave. Three days in Hell had apparently done a number on him. After cleaning himself up a bit and spiking his hair back to how he usually had it – he wanted to look as familiar as possible for when his family saw this – Dean cleared his throat and pressed the record button. First, he put on the best smile he could muster, which was weak enough to be mistaken for a frown. Then, he pretended that he was video chatting with them, and let his heart speak.

“Hey, guys… It’s me,” he began, voice hollower than he was expecting. “I don’t know when you’re gonna find this. Or even _if_ you’ll find this… but I wanted to make sure it existed just in case… Well, just in case something happens to me.”

Dean paused to adjust the camera higher, so that it looked like he was staring straight ahead at them. He started with Sammy. He always had to start with Sammy…

“Sam. If I’m dead, don’t beat yourself up, alright? You do it every time someone dies, man. And it’s never your fault,” Dean said sternly, repeating the words that echoed in his own mind from Sam before. “Dying’s a part of life, right? Happens to everyone. And don’t worry, I wasn’t in pain or anything. I saw it coming.”

Dean was flat out lying, now. But he couldn’t resist the urge to comfort his loved ones. If he was dead, they were grieving, and they needed all the comfort he could give them.

“Sammy, I want you to know that I’m proud of you,” Dean went on, forcing his voice to remain steady. “In my book, you could never do wrong, man. Thank you for always watching my back and being there for me. It was you and me in that Impala against the world, and that’s how we’re gonna be remembered… and if I’m gone, don’t worry. I’ll be on the other side holding the door open for you, okay? Keep your head up and keep fighting with everything you have left in you. I love you, little brother. If you drink to me, make it top shelf liquor, alright? None of that cheap crap…”

Dean paused to look away for a second, unsure if he could continue. God, this was harder than he thought it was going to be… Dean stuck his free hand in his pocket and felt the tiny bottle there.

“Gabriel,” Dean said suddenly, looking back to the camera as he pulled out the shiny bottle, “If you’re there, I want you to know I have some of your grace. It’s all that’s left of this world’s version of you. See?” Dean held it up before recording himself putting it back in his pocket. “It’s right here. If you find this phone, you can probably find the bottle, too. It’s all yours, man… I hope you tore Asmodeus to pieces, real slow. He deserved to be fried by you…”

Dean’s throat felt like it was closing up. The phone battery was running out fast and he knew there was still one person left to address. Arguably the most important of all… Except, Dean felt too ashamed to properly look at the camera now. His hand started to shake, making the video tremble. He couldn’t let what happened between him and the king ruin his last message to his soulmate.

“Cas… b – baby,” Dean said, finally tearing up against his will. “I’m sorry... so sorry... I didn’t make it out to tell you how much I love you… Cas, I love you so much… If it wasn’t for you, I would have already died a long time ago. I won’t ask for your forgiveness; I don’t deserve it… but I want you to know that I fought like hell to get back to you. The thought of seeing you again kept me going… and there’s a king, a version of you, here that has kept me alive… He… I…”

Dean stopped to keep from stuttering, closing his eyes for a moment and feeling the hot drop of water tumble down his cheek. He did not want the last thing Cas heard from him to be about adultery. He wanted it to be meaningful, loving, and all the things he wished he could give to Cas if he ever saw him again. After gathering himself, Dean opened his eyes again, looked to the camera, and forced another smile.

“I was planning to spend the rest of my life with you, Cas… Right next to you. Every day. Every night,” Dean admitted softly. “Looks like it didn’t work out that way… but I’m still grateful for everything we had… I love you, Cas… I love all of you… Thank you for finding me. We’ll find each other again someday. I’m damn sure of it…”

Unable to keep going, Dean waved at the camera before reaching up to push the stop record button. The video, less than two minutes in length, appeared on his camera roll – right next to dozens of happy pictures of his life as it had been. Dean quickly swiped it away, not wanting to devastate himself further. But Cas’s gorgeous face was his background. It smiled up at him from the screen, glowing like sunshine and making Dean’s tears fall faster. With a whimper, the man brought his phone closer to his face so that he could press his lips to the bright picture. He wished it was Cas’s face. He wished he was holding the angel in his arms one last time; begging him for forgiveness, spilling his heart out, burying himself in Cas’s scent and warmth.

When the screen went dark, Dean dropped his hand and shoved the phone back into his jacket pocket. He could feel his emotions trying to build. He was tired, stressed, worried, sad, lonely, terrified, and _angry_. He didn’t want to die here! His story wasn’t supposed to end here in Hell, surrounded by demons and angels and pieces of destroyed Earth! He was supposed to be back in the bunker with Sam and Gabe and Cas! He was supposed to be asleep in his own bed, laying naked next to his angel, dammit! He was supposed to be home!

With a rageful grunt, Dean spun around and started to repeatedly punch the side of the vending machine. The metal started to cave under the violent strikes, denting toward the center. The whole time, he was growling, shouting from the depth of his throat like a furious animal. Dean didn’t stop hitting the vending machine until he felt the hot blood droplets flinging from his fists against his face. His knuckles were scraped raw – and possibly broken – from hitting the thing. But he was still pissed. Unable to control his rage, Dean started ripping the metal coils from inside the machine; jerking at them and shaking the box, anything to break it down to nothing. Because that’s how he felt. He felt like nothing; like a useless, unfaithful, broken, empty machine. If he couldn’t work, then it couldn’t either.

Just as he was about to viciously throw a coil at the wall, Dean saw a pair of blue eyes and his arm stopped.

The king had come back into the room. Dean blinked, eyes still wet from tears, as he lowered his quivering arm and let the metal coil clank to the floor. He didn’t really want to look at the king at first. After the intimate thing that happened between them, he wasn’t sure if he could rightfully look at those blue eyes ever again. He figured that the king would have something to say about the destruction of his private quarters, but strangely enough, the king sounded surprised when he spoke. Almost in disbelief.

“D – Dean?!”

Though he still felt uncomfortable, Dean raised his eyes to look the king over again. The angel was standing at the door with his blade low. But there was hopefulness and joy in his glistening eyes; more than Dean had ever seen.

… And there was a blue tie hanging backwards around his neck…

Dean’s wide eyes darted between the tie and the angel’s face as realization slowly dawned on him. He wasn’t looking at the king. He was looking at Cas. _His Cas_! But, how? How was that possible? It couldn’t be! Cas couldn’t be here in Hell… could he?!

“... Cas?” Dean breathed.

The angel dropped his weapon and ran full force at Dean with arms wide open. Dean automatically opened his own and allowed the angel to crash into him. Cas was trembling against him and panting, clinging so tightly to Dean that the man could barely breathe. The warmth and scent of Cas was undeniable. It was embedded so well in Dean’s memory that it couldn’t be falsified. But as much as he wanted to believe it was true, Dean was still apprehensive. What if this was a trick? What if it was an elaborate hoax? The angel eventually leaned back and held Dean’s face to stare at him, gawking with delight and relief.

“It’s – it’s truly you!” Cas sighed, glistening blue eyes like living water as they bore into Dean’s soul. “Oh, Dean! We found you! _I found you!_ ”

A million questions were on the edge of Dean’s mouth, ready to spring forward for answers. But he was muted momentarily when Cas kissed him. Dean nearly melted into a puddle on the spot. Oh God, how long had he wanted to do this? How many times did he daydream about this exact moment while trapped in this room? Though he was tempted to give in and kiss Cas back, he pulled away. He couldn’t fall victim to another dose of guilt. Not again. Besides, he needed answers.

“Cas? H – how did you – ? Wh – where did you – ?”

“I heard your prayer, Dean. Just a moment ago,” Cas quickly said, raking his fingers through Dean’s spiked hair the whole time and giving him chills. “I followed your voice.”

“My prayer?”

“Yes. ’ _I was planning to spend the rest of my life with you. Right next to you. Every day, Every night.’_ You prayed that, did you not? It was your voice, Dean. I heard it. I followed it here.”

Dean felt his own eyes widen in surprise. Cas thought that his goodbye video was a prayer. Maybe, in some way, it was…

“But – but, I mean, how did you get here? Baby, I thought you were in a different universe – ”

“Yes. We arrived in this world less than an hour ago,” Cas nodded.

“We?” Dean repeated.

“Sam, Gabriel, and I. The three of us. We came here together,” Cas answered, making Dean’s heart soar. “I left them at the entrance of the portal to Hell we came through. Thanks to the note we found in the bunker, we were able to locate the portal in less than – ”

“Note?” Dean interrupted, “What note?”

“The one written in Enochian, on the metal island, in the kitchen. I assumed you wrote it. It mentioned that you were here, in Hell, and that we could find the portal close to a gas station in Nevada… Dean?”

The man was sure that his face was pale, because he couldn’t feel any heat in it. He was suddenly remembering the glowing markings he saw the king place on the metal island. The king knew. He knew that Dean’s family would come looking for him. He knew that the bunker would be the first place they would check, because it was the first place Dean wanted to check. He knew Cas would go to that metal island because it was special to them.

The king had left a trail for Dean’s family that led straight to him.

While Dean was momentarily silent and staggered, Cas used the time to hug and kiss him again. His hand cradled the back of Dean’s head, like it always did when they were being sweet with each other. This time, when Cas spoke, his voice was shaky and he kept his face buried into the crease of Dean’s neck, where his hot breath gave Dean goosebumps.

“When you fell through that portal, Dean… For a moment, I thought you were gone forever… I thought – I thought I would never see you again… Yet, here you _are_.” His deep voice cracked. “Please forgive me for not getting to you in time.”

Dean recalled the struggle they had reaching each other at the mouth of that portal – and then he remembered that Cas’s coat strap was still on his forearm. If the strap was missing from Cas’s coat, then odds were, he was the real thing. Dean subtly slid his hand down to feel the back of the angel’s coat… but there was no strap there. Dean even pulled back to look down and search, but the stretch of fabric wasn’t on Cas’s person, it was wrapped around Dean’s forearm.

“Here,” Dean smiled as he curled up his sleeve to take off the strap, “This is yours, babe. I held onto it for you.”

Cas nearly gasped when he saw the missing piece of his attire. Clearly, it was the missing link between them; the seemingly insignificant object that fit them together. Dean smirked as he began to rope the strap back through the hooks of Cas’s coat, restoring it to its rightful place. When he finished the last loop and pulled the ends evenly, Dean looked up to see Cas’s face, only to find him staring expressionless at the door. Dean followed his angel’s light of sight – and found the king standing there staring right back.

Dean gulped and took a timid step away as he glanced between the matching angels. Dean’s boyfriend and the king were identical twins, differed only by their clothing. They were even wearing the same expression as their eyes were locked; an elusive, dead-serious gaze. Dean’s eyes bounced back and forth between them, wondering why they weren’t saying anything. Maybe they were communicating through angel radio or something. They honestly looked like a couple of deadly animals tensed up and preparing to fight over territory. Dean was starting to think that he should step between them to keep the peace.

At one point during the silent staring contest, Dean’s boyfriend briefly glanced toward him in suspicion before stepping over to hook an arm around him. The angels communicative glower continued without a word, but Dean felt so lost. How long were they all going to stand here doing nothing? Wasn’t a war about to break out? If Sam and Gabe really were in this world, didn’t Dean and the Cas’s need to get to them before the angels attacked?

“Uh, guys? I think we need to go.”

Dean’s interruption seemed to finally break up the weird tension between the twin angels. Cas’s arm remained firmly wrapped around Dean’s lower back, almost protectively. The king bowed his head with a nod as he turned for the door.

“We must fly quickly. An uprising has begun. The angels are prepared to strike. Follow me closely.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an order. And surprisingly, Dean’s boyfriend seemed to do exactly as he was told. The storage quarters vanished, replaced with the chamber containing the shimmery portal that Dean remembered from their trip to Earth. The flight was so quick that it made him momentarily dizzy. He didn’t realize they were there until Cas’s arm disappeared from his back and he heard metal clanking together.

A small group of demons had been standing by the portal when the three of them appeared, and they attacked on sight. Both versions of Cas were fighting them; using their grace to light up the chamber at various points. Dean flattened his back against the wall and watched the commotion with his mouth open. He knew that it was an inappropriate time to be thinking naughty thoughts, but holy shit, the sight of double Castiel’s mercilessly slaughtering demons was one of the hottest things Dean had ever seen. The way their long coats swept around each other, their faces tightened with mirrored determination, the echoing grunts from both of them… The thought popped into Dean’s mind to ask both Cas’s if they would be interested in a threesome, but he quickly swept it under the rug. ‘ _Now’s not the time, Dean_ ,’ he chastised himself. ‘ _Survival first, threesome later_.’ 

While Dean was busy daydreaming about all kinds of sexy possibilities, one of the demons came running for him. He barely saw the thing before it blasted him off his feet and onto his back. He landed hard and sucked in a breath just in time to see it bringing down a blade – but, luckily, one of the Cas’s was standing close enough to burn the demon with his grace. He quickly tossed the demon away before bringing his frantic attention to the man on the floor.

“Dean? Are you alright?”

Before he even heard the answer, the angel was helping Dean up, circling an arm around his back to bring him up to his feet. Dean used the time to look down and see that the blue tie was gone. It was the king who had saved his life yet again. Dean quickly let go of the guy once he was standing on his own.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you,” he assured, seeing that his boyfriend was walking toward him. “Cas? Baby, you okay?”

“Fine,” Cas answered, instantly putting an arm around Dean’s waist again as he looked to the king. “I thought they weren’t plotting against you yet.”

Dean glanced between them in surprise again. Yep. They had spoken to each other telepathically through the angel radio…

“Clearly, they were doing it without my knowledge,” the king huffed. “Shall we continue?”

Without another word, the king led the way through the shimmery vale. Cas tightened his grip on Dean and walked through, guiding the man along. Dean braced himself for the discomfort of going through the portal and the way it made his stomach feel upset. He kept his eyes closed to combat the sickness, clinging to Cas like a life raft. He kept putting one foot in front of the other until –

“Dean!”

The sound of Sam’s voice made Dean’s heart leap into his throat. His eyes flashed open and he looked around, briefly seeing the dusty swirls of air, before a large plaid form engulfed him. Sammy had raced over to hug Dean, burying him in the familiar musk of the Impala and the bunker. Dean instantly hugged his oversized little brother and chuckled to himself. Less than twenty minutes before, Dean was saying his last goodbye to Sam, and now they were hugging each other in person. Life was a trip…

“I knew we’d find you!” Sam rejoiced, taking a step back to pat Dean’s shoulder. “Gabe thought you were lost forever, but I told him you would –”

“No, no. I never said he was lost. Only that we’d never see him again.”

Dean leaned over to peer around Sam at the familiar voice that spoke. There, standing with his arms crossed and looking like he was bored, was the archangel Gabriel. He was exactly the way Dean remembered; shaggy blonde hair, short stature, hidden trickster smirk. Seeing him was like seeing the sun come out again. He wasn’t the damaged, shriveled, traumatized creature that Dean saw last. Gabriel was still Gabriel!

“Gabe!” Dean grinned.

The man stepped over to wrap both arms around the short trickster and pick him up with a hug. Gabe seemed genuinely confused and uncomfortable with the affectionate embrace, but Dean couldn’t help it. Watching Gabe die had given Dean a new sense of gratefulness.

“Er, Moose? You mind getting this thing off me?” Gabe grumbled toward Sam.

Dean chuckled once before putting Gabe down and letting go.

“I’m glad to see you, man,” he said earnestly.

“Yeah? Well, you’d better be. I used the rest of my grace to get us here, you know. Mojo tank’s as dry as a bone,” Gabe spat.

Dean’s face was starting to hurt from smiling so much. He shook his head and reached into his pocket while Gabe was talking, retrieving the tiny bottle hidden next to his phone.

“Here,” Dean said as he took Gabe’s hand to place the bottle of grace in it. “Now we’re even.”

Gabe’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets when he saw the glow emanating from the bottle. He quickly looked back up in shock.

“Wh – where the fresh hell did you get this?!”

“From you. The other you, that was here,” Dean explained. “He’s gone now… but I promised to get that back to you.”

Without saying another word, Gabe uncorked the bottle and sucked in the golden glow. It instantly entered his body, like it was magnetically drawn to him. His skin began to shine with a golden hue, making him the brightest thing in the wasteland they stood in. As soon as the grace faded into his body, Gabriel looked more vibrant than Dean had ever seen before.

“ _Whoooo!_ ” the archangel howled, bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other. “That shit’s better than eating a mountain of candy! I’m wide awake now, Sammy-boy! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

“Come, Dean,” Cas said, grabbing him by the waist again. “The portal is going to close soon. We must hurry.”

Dean wanted to ask Cas what he meant and where they were going, but he was standing in an entirely different place in seconds. Sam, Gabe, and the two Cas’s were still with him, but they were somewhere else. Judging by the nearby piles of bricks, the dirty truck in the distance, and the wisps of dust in the air, Dean was back where he came from; at the destroyed version of Eunice, Louisiana.

Only now, the ground was rumbling fiercely. It felt like the biggest Earthquake in history was taking place right under his boots. Dean had to cling to Cas’s coat just to remain standing. A fast-paced ‘tick-tick-tick’ sound accompanied the chaos. It was coming from Dean’s belt, from the Geiger counter. Not only was the Earth shaking, it was filled with toxic radiation. Dean was confused by everything happening. Where was that rumble coming from?

“They’re coming.”

The king’s low, hollow voice was barely audible over the loud atmosphere, but he raised a hand to point toward the sky, which Dean tried to follow. A huge sky-sized line of pure white light was growing in the sky. Dean’s eyes were too sensitive to look straight at it, but he figured that it was the angels; the second coming that the king mentioned before. The angels were really doing it. They were coming down from Heaven to start the next apocalypse…

“Come on! The portal’s over here!”

Dean turned around to look at Sam, who gestured an arm for the group. There was a wide split in the air that looked just like the one Dean fell through. Gabriel was the first one to get there. The archangel practically shoved Sammy through it first, and then followed right along after him. Dean watched them disappear inside just before the loud screeching started. Dean groaned out loud and dropped to his knees, covering his ears from the impossibly loud sound. He had never heard anything as high-pitched and painful as that! It almost reminded him of hearing Cas’s real voice for the first time; how it shattered the windows and made his ears bleed.

“They’re rallying,” the king shouted. “Take him through! Now!”

“ _No!_ ” Dean squeaked.

The man scrambled up from the ground and fought to keep his balance as he reached out his hand. He wasn’t about to leave the king behind. Dean hadn’t realized it until that moment, but the thought of the king – the thought of _Cas_ – being trapped alone in this world terrified him. Dean would never let that happen! He couldn’t!

“Come on! You’re coming with us!” Dean shouted.

Despite the chaos happening around them and the impending arrival of the violent angels, the king remained perfectly balanced and calm as he turned around to face Dean. They hadn’t properly looked at each other since the kiss happened, but now Dean could see something new on the guy’s face. The king was… peaceful. He was quiet, soft, innocent, somber; all of the things Dean had fallen in love with. And while his boyfriend still held him by the waist, Dean kept his hand out toward the king. But the guy wasn’t reaching back.

“No, Dean. I must remain here,” the king replied. “I must protect the portal until it is closed – ”

“ _No_ , dammit, you’re coming with me,” Dean demanded sternly through gritted teeth. “I’m taking you home.”

Instead of arguing with the king, Dean lunged forward to grab a fist full of the angel’s coat. He wasn’t going to let go. He was going to march both Cas’s straight back through that portal to the other side. But trying to make Cas move was like trying to pull a tree up by the roots. Dean would never be able to do it with his bare hands. He jerked and tugged and yanked with all his might, but the king wasn’t budging.

Instead of complying with Dean’s demand, the king’s eyes, warm and soft sapphire, studied Dean’s face as he reached up to take Dean by the wrist. He effortlessly pulled Dean’s hand away from his coat and brought the bloodied knuckles up to kiss them. Dean didn’t understand. The king was about to die if he didn’t move! He had to get through that portal! Why was he hesitating?! Why was he kissing Dean’s hand like that?!

After the tender exchange, the king took Dean’s hand and held it out toward his double. Cas, who still held Dean by the waist, gently took Dean’s hand when it was offered to him and gave the king an understanding look.

“We’re out of time, Dean. We must go,” Cas said.

“N – no,” Dean huffed, feeling moisture rise in his eyes as he looked to the king. “You – You have to come with us! Please! Cas! _Cas, please! No!_ ”

No matter how much Dean protested or fought against his boyfriend’s hold, he couldn’t reach the king. The king was a statue, wearing the softest, most peaceful expression Dean had ever seen. It was almost like he wanted to stay, but why?! There was nothing left for him here! Why couldn’t he just come back home with Dean?! _Why?!_

“It’s alright, Dean,” the king called as Cas began to drag him through the portal. “… You’re saved at last.”

“ _No!_ ” Dean screamed, “ _Cas!_ ”

The last Dean saw of the king was the tiny shimmer of liquid pooling in his blue eyes. As the white light grew all around them, Dean was sucked through the portal like a piece of dirt in a vacuum cleaner; shot through space so fast that his head spun. Before he knew it, his back was thumping on solid ground… and he was blinking up at clear blue sky.

Though his ears felt sensitive, Dean could hear the low hum of vehicles nearby. He was looking up from the ground of an alley at two perfectly constructed brick buildings on either side of him. Clouds were floating by way up in the atmosphere. The world he was laying in was quiet and tranquil – but it only brought tears of mourning to his eyes. Oh, God, he was so close to saving Cas! So close! Why didn’t the king just come with him?!

“N – no,” Dean whimpered, crying on the ground like a child.

Suddenly, Cas’s face appeared above Dean through his tears. Dean quickly wiped away the moisture so that he could see the angel properly. Cas’s soft hands were holding Dean’s face, comforting him with the gentle touch.

“Cas,” Dean sighed, reaching up to clutch the angel’s blue tie, “I – could have saved him.”

“You _did_ save him, Dean,” the angel answered. “You saved him by coming home, just like he wanted. He is at peace, now… and you still have me.”

Dean whimpered a little, feeling guilty again. Cas probably thought Dean had forgotten about him because of the king, but there was no way in hell he would ever be able to forget about his true love. Though his heart was still broken, Dean pulled Cas down into a full hug and buried his face into the sweet-smelling fabric of his coat. Cas smelled just like the bunker… He smelled just like home…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of you probably saw that coming, didn’t you? :( (I know. I’m the worst. Believe me, I’m crying with you.) :’( But! Before you write this story off as a complete tragedy, I really hope that you consider finishing next week’s chapter, because guess what? The king’s story isn’t quite over yet. ;) And before anyone makes speculations: No, Dean’s boyfriend and the king did _Not_ switch places. The king stayed in his world and Dean’s boyfriend came back home with Dean. Also, you probably noticed that there was no smut? Yeah, that’s because I took your advice and left out the whole smut chapter. (but I have arranged some naughty time for Dean and his own Cas in the next chapter, so there’s that to look forward to!) XD When it comes to WIPs, I find that you guys are usually right. I take all of your feedback and suggestions to heart when creating a story, because at the end of the day, these fics are for all of us, not just me. Plus, I love you so much and your opinion matters to me! You’re an important part of my writing process, and I wouldn’t get much done without you! Thank you so much! *hugs* Like I said, there is one more chapter to go, and it is arguably the best of all of them! (The ending will leave you with tears of joy, I promise!) ;D I really hope you liked this chapter despite the sad parts! Thank you so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains Destiel smut, as well as some good, emotional feels. :) I hope you enjoy the finale!

Dean refused to leave the alley for a long time. He was waiting – mindlessly hoping, really – that the portal would reopen, and the king would come sweeping through to protect Dean like the selfless hero he was. But nothing happened. Dean remained with his family in the bright, sweet-scented, happier version of reality. If it wasn’t for Cas hovering near him, Dean wouldn’t have been able to sit there so calmly. It was over. Dean was back in his world. But the king was gone.

Sam was the one who finally pulled Dean out of the alley and into the sunlight. The sheer glow and heat from the sun nearly made Dean’s knees buckle. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt sunshine on his face. Part of him fully believed he would never see the sun again. Yet, there he was, standing in broad daylight. And it was the king who would never see the sun again…

As the emotion from that sad thought started to rise in Dean’s chest, he felt the heat disappear from his face. When he opened his eyes again, he realized the sky was gone and he was staring at a familiar sight. Tall control panels, chairs, and the glowing map table of the bunker. The angels had flown Dean home. He was standing at the entry way, next to his brother and their respective angels.

Dean didn’t have to turn around to know that every eye in the room was on him. Sam, Gabe, and Cas were all studying him closely, unsure of whether to talk to him about his ordeal or just keep quiet and give him time to adjust to being home. Dean wanted to let them know he would be alright eventually, but he didn’t know what to say either. He didn’t want to talk. Hell, he didn’t even want to be home. He didn’t know what he wanted.

“Dean? There’s, uh… There’s pizza in the kitchen if… If you’re hungry…”

Sammy’s voice was so kind and gentle. Such a good little brother, always looking out for Dean’s health. But Dean wasn’t hungry. Honestly, he didn’t know if his appetite would ever come back again. As Dean lowered his head and shook it, he noticed how dark his own hands were and raised them up to inspect his own skin. His knuckles, open and raw, were nearly black with blood and dirt. His jacket was filthy. Dean was a dirty rotten mess, inside and out.

“… I’m gonna take a shower.” The words came out like a wheeze from Dean’s hoarse throat.

Luckily, none of Dean’s family tried to stop him when he began to wander off. Gabriel, the perpetual mood-lightener, quietly thanked Dean again for recharging his grace, but Dean didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Despite having spent a majority of his time alone over the past few days, Dean felt that was exactly what he needed now. To be alone. This time, to grieve for the angel who given up his own life to save Dean’s…

No one stopped Dean when he made his way down the bunker corridor. Not even Cas, which Dean found surprising. Maybe Dean’s boyfriend wanted to respect his wishes or something, but it seemed strange for him. The Men of Letter’s shower room was large and vacant, just the way Dean left it. His favorite stall was the one left of the center, because it had the best water pressure. He went through the motions of taking off his clothes – shrugging out of his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt and pants, sliding out of his underwear – peeling off the grime of the past three days of horror and nightmares. Once naked, he could see the large bruise on his side, the deep red lines on his ankles and wrists, and just how badly his knuckles where damaged. His right hand was swelling, so he knew they were probably broken. But he didn’t care about his own body. What was the point of keeping his body well if his soul wasn’t?

The cold water that blasted from the shower head splashed Dean’s face and made him suck in a breath. He quickly turned the handle closer to hot and carefully eased into the heavy stream, closing his eyes to feel the liquid running down his bare skin. The only sound in the room was the echoing water jutting from the pipe, hitting Dean’s body, and running down the drain. The room was calm, almost relaxing, but it didn’t help Dean’s aching insides.

He should have fought harder. He should have refused to leave without Cas. Both of them. Oh God, what would happen to the king over there, on the other side? The poor guy had already lost Dean, Sam, and Meg. There was nothing left for him over there. Why didn’t he just come with Dean? What was he trying to prove? The sweet angel was going to die all alone, and there wasn’t a damn thing Dean could do about it. In fact, it was probably his fault –

“It’s not your fault.”

Dean instantly spun around in the shower. Cas, his beloved soulmate, was standing at the end of the stall, fully clothed. Dean’s sight immediately gravitated toward the blue tie hanging around the angel’s neck. It was bizarre to see the very same face he was thinking about right in front of him, though it wasn’t the same person. Damn, how did he know what Dean was thinking? Was Cas a mind reader, now? Though he was curious, Dean only hung his head to look down at the water swirling between his bare feet and Cas’s black shoes.

“Forgive my intrusion on your privacy,” Cas requested over the water. “I know you want to be alone. But, Dean, you’re hurting. You’re in pain… Please, may I help you?”

The gentle echo of Cas’s voice against the tiled walls made Dean’s muscles relax. The angel extended an open palm toward Dean’s damaged hand, to which Dean sighed and slid it into Cas’s grasp. Cas looked over the swollen fingers and broken knuckles before curling Dean’s aching hand toward his mouth. Grace shined from Cas’s lips when he kissed Dean’s hand, healing the injury along with all the others on Dean’s body. The feeling of Cas’s grace, mixed with the warm water cascading over his bare back, gave Dean chills. It felt damn good to be healed like that… When the light disappeared, Cas raised his head.

“I – I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to have you home with me,” he breathed.

Dean gulped. Buried deep within his mountain of pain and grief, he was glad to be home, too. Especially with the one person he most wanted to get back to. The man’s gaze dropped to the angel’s clothing, which was slowly getting drenched from the shower. Their hands were still clasped, wet and warm between them. Dean was suddenly aware of how naked he was in front of Cas. His entire body was on full display, glistening for Cas to see. And for once, Dean was relieved by the notion. He needed to be completely open, laid bare, for Cas. Dean owed him honesty and a full explanation. 

But before he could form the words, Cas stepped forward to capture his mouth. Cas, sensing the brief change in Dean’s demeanor, must have seen the opportunity to morph the moment into something more passionate. At first, Dean couldn’t help but relax into the embrace. He closed his eyes, kissed Cas’s lips, and reached up to cling to the angel’s coat. The wet fabric felt amazing against Dean’s bare skin. Dean could feel arousal pulsing toward his crotch to harden his dick, but his brain refused to comply. He couldn’t allow this to happen. Not while Cas was still unaware of what happened. There was only one thing Dean could do.

“I kissed him.”

Dean was panting into Cas’s face now, no longer making out with him, but still unable to let him go. Cas leaned back with concern, looking over Dean’s face like he didn’t understand what he was saying.

“The king. The other Cas. I kissed him,” Dean confessed. “W – well, I mean, he kissed me. But I didn’t stop it. I – I mean, I _did_ stop it, but –”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted, voice calm and full of love. “… It’s okay. I know.”

Dean continued to breathe hard. He knew? But, how? How did he know? In the midst of Dean’s internal war, Cas’s hand slid up to cup his wet face.

“He told me,” the angel explained. “He told me everything, though not in the conventional use of language that you are familiar with. We spoke through –”

“The angel radio.”

“Yes. Precisely,” Cas nodded. “I know about the kiss. I also know about Meg, and Gabriel, and the horrific deaths that all his loved ones experienced. He showed me all of it… Dean, I’m not upset with you for comforting him. For comforting that version of me. Quite the contrary, I am deeply moved and humbled. This experience has proven just how much you love me.”

Dean could feel his own tears forming. They blended in with the rest of the hot water dripping from his face. Dean may have helped the king a little bit, but it was the king who sacrificed himself to save Dean’s life…

“No, Cas… It proved how much _you_ love _me_.”

After staring into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds, the two of them plunged back into an emotional kiss. It went on long enough to pump Dean’s erection back to life before Cas pulled back to sigh erotically.

“C – can we redeem that raincheck now, Dean?”

The man nearly laughed. He had all but forgotten about the ‘raincheck’ they had established before Dean wound up in a different universe. Without another word, Dean started to pull his boyfriend’s clothes off, unwrapping his wet body down to his bare olive skin. Cas helped him, excitedly unbuttoning his white shirt and unbuckling his pants. Dean kissed him the whole time, pecking his lips up and down the length of Cas’s neck and along the angel’s shoulder.

Cas’s clothing fell to the tiled floor with various wet ‘splat’ noises until the handsome angel was standing naked against Dean. The man paused to look over his gorgeous boyfriend, drinking in the sight of his muscled torso, dark nipples, and growing dick, before pushing his own body up against it all. Cas groaned beautifully when his back met the wet wall of the shower and Dean squished against him. Their ribcages met and Dean could feel Cas’s heart racing as they kissed. Dean blindly reached for the nearest bottle of soap or shampoo, anything slippery, so that he could coat the wall with it.

“Ah, Dean, I’ve missed you so desperately,” Cas whimpered into Dean’s ear, nibbling a little on his earlobe. “ _Amica mea… Dean…_ ” 

Dean bit down a moan and closed his eyes for a second. Hearing Cas’s voice slip effortlessly into a different language did inhuman things to him. To encourage more Enochian speech, Dean hummed a little and quickly slipped his hand down to start wiggling Cas open. The angel hooked both arms around Dean’s neck in approval, meeting his mouth fully.

Once Cas seemed ready, Dean scooped him up around the thighs and slid him up the slick wall. It only took a small amount of maneuvering for him to get into position and start thrusting. And when their bodies first merged, Cas let out the most soulful cry Dean had ever heard. The man nearly came on the spot, but deliberately held back his own orgasm. He didn’t want to ruin this amazing moment without taking advantage of it first. With the shower head soaking their joined bodies, Dean started to grind into Cas, sliding the angel up and down the wall as he thrust, creating pleasureful friction.

“Gnah! Oh, _Dean, yes_ ,” Cas whined, voice echoing off the tiled walls.

As he crawled his way closer toward an unbelievable finish, Dean took the time to really look at Cas. The dark stubble on the lower part of his face, the water dripping from his open lips, the pronounced Adam’s apple bobbing along his throat, the sound of his breath, the look of absolute love in his eyes – everything Dean thought he would never get to see or experience again was now in the process of happening to him. Dean adored Cas more in that moment than he ever had before. Cas was everything he would ever wanted; all he would ever need.

When Dean’s free hand fell between them to jerk Cas’s twitching cock, the angel let out a glorious moan that made Dean shiver and thrust faster. Dean was coming before he realized it; pulsing fluid into Cas’s clenching insides and growling monstrously as his eyes rolled back. Pleasure flooded his body and didn’t let up until he felt hot goo splattering up his chest. Cas had come with him. They had shared an orgasm and were now clinging to each other with trembling arms under the cascade of warm water.

Dean rested his chin on Cas’s shoulder to catch his breath and stare at the wet strands of black hair stuck to the angel’s neck. All of the hours he had spent pining to get back home to Cas had all been worthwhile. He was finally home, in Cas’s arms, where he belonged. And he never wanted to leave… In a spur of adrenaline, Dean’s head popped up. Post-orgasm chemicals had already taken over Cas’s eyes. He blinked in a daze at Dean, smiling and looking as pretty as a picture.

“Cas, will you marry me?”

The words fell out like items tumbling from a closet that had been closed for too long. The sapphires Dean loved grew twice their size and gawked in disbelief.

“M – marry – ?” Cas breathed.

“I don’t ever want to live in a world without you, Cas. I tried it, and it’s definitely not for me,” Dean explained, carefully sliding the angel back down to stand him on his feet and take his hand. “Look, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or any day after. All I know is that being without you isn’t an option. And, well, marriage is, um, it’s a human thing. I don’t know if you understand what I’m asking. I just want – ”

Cas burst forward, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck to kiss him full force, and face was beaming with a huge smile when he pulled away to speak.

“Yes,” Cas answered, grinning wildly, “Yes, Dean, I will marry you.”

Dean was speechless. He had somewhat braced himself to hear the word ‘no,’ or even have to explain the whole concept of marriage. But to receive a ‘yes’ so quickly? To hear Cas blurt the answer without so much as a second thought?

“R – really?”

“Of course. I feel exactly the same way you do,” Cas concluded matter-of-factly, continuously caressing Dean’s head, neck, and cheeks. “In the sixty-eight hours and forty-two minutes we were apart, all I could think about was seeing you again. Knowing you were close, enjoying your company -”

“You counted the exact minutes?” Dean muttered in surprise.

“Yes. I was incapable of ignoring the time,” Cas answered. “To be honest, I was glad to see that a different version of me was with you. I know myself, Dean, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which I would not love and care for you.”

… Damn. Dean truly didn’t know what to say. All he could do was stand under the stream of warm water and stare at his soulmate in awe. He was strongly considering sweeping Cas off his feet and starting up another bout of sex regardless of how recent his own orgasm was, but a noise cut through the bathroom. It was a gurgle, accompanied by a painful ache in Dean’s stomach. The man cringed and leaned forward, holding his wet abdomen. Dean barely had time to register it when Cas clutched his shoulders.

“You are hungry, Dean… practically famished,” the angel pointed out.

Dean nodded, noticing Cas step backwards out of the stall and return with a fresh towel.

“Here. Dry yourself and return to our room to get dressed,” he suggested. “In the meantime, I will retrieve pizza, beer, and pecan pie for you. Would you prefer your pizza topped with bacon, or would you rather have it on the side?”

Dean’s mouth flooded with saliva as he gazed dreamily toward the wet, sexy, naked angel in front of him. Maybe Dean didn’t come back home. Maybe that portal brought him straight to heaven instead…

“I… I _did_ ask you to marry me, right?” Dean mumbled, wanting to make sure.

Cas’s smile returned at full power as he stepped closer to kiss Dean once more. The man savored the flavor, closing his eyes to fully taste the angel’s soft lips.

“Yes, Dean, you did. And my answer will always be ‘yes,” Cas reminded in a whisper. “I’ll meet you in our bedroom.”

Dean smirked and opened his eyes to see Cas again, but the angel had already flown away. Though he was alone, Dean didn’t feel nearly as bad as he did before. Even as he reached over to turn off the shower and dry himself off, Dean felt like a balloon; barely able to keep his feet on the floor. He quickly tied the towel around his waist, gathered his pile of dirty clothing, and started to walk – well, more like skip – merrily out of the shower room and down the bunker hallway, almost floating on air.

But when he reached his bedroom and stepped inside, Dean caught sight of the record player on the dresser, and his heartache drifted back. His dance with the king – the first and last dance the king ever had – was fresh in his mind. Guilt and grief were back at the forefront of Dean’s feelings yet again. How could he go on with his happy, perfect existence while poor Cas was stuck all alone in his other world? Dean looked down at the dirty clothes in his hands, feeling like total shit. He should have held on tighter. He should have refused to leave without the king… Unable to cope with the pain in his chest, Dean closed his eyes and tossed his dirty clothes at the hamper near the wall.

And a sizable ‘thunk’ came from the floor.

Obviously, that wasn’t a sound that cloth made when it fell, so Dean turned to look toward the heavy noise. There, laying on the floor of his bedroom, was a dark book. It seemed to have fallen out of his jacket pocket, as it was laying half under the crinkled fabric. Dean instantly walked over and picked the object up to look it over. It was a bible – the same bible that Dean remembered from the king’s desk drawer. And wrapped around the book was a dirty, faded, tan strap. It was the strap from the king’s coat. Dean recognized it immediately. But how did it get into his pocket? Did the king put it there without him noticing?

Dean’s vision blurred with tears and his hands were shaking when he carefully started to unravel the strap from around the bible. He wondered if the king had planted it on Dean as a keepsake, a souvenir from their time together. Curious, Dean flipped through the pages until he reached proverbs, where he remembered the picture of himself was wedged. It was still there, but now there was something else, too. A folded piece of paper tucked neatly behind the picture. Dean’s mouth fell open. Holy shit. It was a note…

Dean’s heart pounded and he glanced around to make sure no one else was there. Part of him thought that the king would suddenly pop up out of nowhere, but Dean remained alone. He quickly laid the open bible on the bed so that he could take the paper and open it. Of course, it was covered in Cas’s perfect handwriting. Though his fingers were trembling and eyes were full of moisture, Dean began to read:

_Dean,_

_I feel it won’t be long until your family arrives to rescue you, so I am using this time to write an official farewell. Though I asked before, I feel I must ask you again to forgive me. I should not have forced myself onto you in such a rude manner. It was only a kiss, yes, but still inappropriate. You must understand, I have harbored feelings for you since I first laid eyes on your soul in hell. You told me that the Dean I knew loved me at first sight, yes? Well, those emotions were mutual. This situation has opened my eyes to many things, but mostly I have come to believe in the notion of love being the most powerful thing in existence. I’m sure that you probably find that sentence… what’s the word… cheesy?_

Dean paused his reading to smile through his tears.

 _Well, as ‘cheesy’ as it sounds, I know it to be true. For years, I have often asked myself why I remained alive. After the deaths of both Sam and Dean, there was a period where I considered suicide. What else did I have to live for? Earth was destroyed, Heaven was in chaos, and Hell was living up to its name. There was nothing for me here. Yet, through instinct I did not understand, I stayed. I took command of Hell, I preserved what was left of humanity. I waited and waited and waited for the answer… Then, you arrived. And suddenly, everything made sense. I wasn’t supposed to save humanity, I was supposed to save_ you _. You were the reason I needed to stay, Dean. The universe – perhaps still dictated by my Father – kept me here so that I could shepherd you safely back to your own universe, where you belong._

Dean had to stop again to wipe his eyes and sniffle. He didn’t know if his heart would be able to finish the letter, but he knew he had to try. After catching his breath, Dean brought his sight back to the elegantly written note.

_I know you will try to take me with you when your family arrives, but I cannot go. I have always belonged here, just as you belong in your world. My purpose has been served and all I have done has been made worthwhile. I shall proudly meet my death knowing that I have done everything in my power to finally do what I could not do before. I finally saved your life... Do not weep for me, Dean. Death is a path we all must take. And if I’ve done my job correctly, you will still have me there with you. The version of me that was lucky enough to hear you say the words ‘I love you’. Please, do me a favor, and tell him that every chance you get. Let him know that his affections are fully returned. Be patient with him. Be kind to him. And always remember that he will do anything to keep you safe… I wish you a life full of happiness and peace, Dean. For it is what you’ve always deserved._

_Yours forever,_

_Castiel_

Dean sobbed loudly when he got to the bottom. He was no longer standing, but slouched on the floor with his shoulder against the bed, wearing only a towel around his waist. It was like the king answered every question Dean had in his mind. Even before his own death, Cas consoled Dean. He had hidden this beautiful gift in Dean’s pocket for him to find at this exact moment. The king already knew. God, Cas was so amazing…

Dean’s eyes flitted over the page a few times as he composed himself. He cleared his throat, wiped his eyes, and gently folded the paper back to the way it was. He slid the letter back behind his own dorky picture and carefully closed the bible, where he smiled at the golden cross stamped to the front. Did Cas know he had picked this thing up when he was snooping through the storage quarters? Probably. Nothing got passed Cas…

Dean reached over to get the dirty coat strap from the floor and wrapped it back around the bible. Once it was in place, Dean brought the whole thing to his mouth to press a kiss to it. It was his way of saying goodbye; of placing the king on a pedestal in his memory, where he could live forever. Dean slowly got back up to his feet and walked over to the shelf above the headboard, where he kept all of his favorite things. He gently placed the king’s bible between a picture of his mother and his father’s journal.

Just as his hand left the shelf, Dean felt a gentle breeze sweep through the room, and turned around to see Cas standing near the door. The angel, wearing his blue robe, had his hands full with plates of food and a couple of beers. Dean’s mouth watered at the scent of pie, but his eyes were fixed on Cas’s black hair, pink lips, and perfect ocean eyes.

“I confiscated these candy bars from Gabriel, so if you hear him complaining, it was my fault… Dean? Are you alright?”

Cas was clearly concerned about the redness of Dean’s eyes and the wet streaks on his face, but Dean put on a smile. Though his stomach was aching with hunger, Dean took the food from Cas’s hands and placed it all on the dresser to free his arms up. Then, Dean put himself in them; wrapping Cas against him so that he could bring their mouths together in a sweet, passionate kiss. He pulled away only a few inches, keeping his mouth close enough to share Cas’s breath.

“I love you, Cas.”

The words made the angel melt happily against Dean.

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas replied.

* * *

Castiel had made a vow with himself that he would not allow Dean to leave his sight until they reached the portal. Of course, he anticipated that Dean would beg him to come along, but the look of fear and desperation on Dean’s lovely face tore at the angel’s heart strings. The man was doing everything in his power to get Castiel to go with him into a different universe. But little did Dean know, Castiel had already said his goodbyes. He would not be journeying with Dean out of this world. He had to remain here, and make sure nothing followed Dean and his family through the portal.

Castiel was glad that he could rely on his other self to escort Dean away. If the angel knew anything about himself, it was that Dean was his first priority, no matter what timeline or universe. Castiel shared eye contact with Dean – a difficult thing to do, now that tears were clouding the precious emeralds – until he disappeared completely through the vale. Castiel blinked and watched as the portal shuddered and contorted before blinking out of existence. The exhale that deflated the angel’s lungs gave his vessel chills.

That was it. It was done. Dean was safe at last.

A strange sense of peace came over Castiel when he turned around to face the bright light of Heaven’s wrath coming toward him. Now that Dean was gone, he didn’t have to fight anymore. His job was done. He could go and rest tranquilly in the Empty for all of eternity. The angel blade slipped from his grasp and clanked to the earth where it rattled violently with the rest of the quaking rubble. Then, he smiled and opened his arms wide, feeling the hem of his coat flap behind him. He could hear the shout of his once-beloved brethren drawing closer. He expected a blade to pierce his skin, but instead, it was the sheer magnitude of Heaven’s light that caused him to combust. Castiel felt his own grace shatter like glass; vaporize like a misty cloud, dispersing outward and disappearing into nothing. He didn’t even have time to feel the pain of it. He was dead within milliseconds.

Darkness was what he remembered next. Not the darkness of terror, but a peaceful lack of light. He often wondered what it would feel like to sleep as humans slept, and he realized this must have been it. He was sleeping in the Empty, presumably next to his other fallen brothers and sisters. Next to Gabriel, perhaps. But then, there was a sound. A sound he never thought he would hear again.

“Cas?”

The angel instinctively opened his eyes and had to blink against the brightness. Was he not dead yet? Was he still in the middle of Heaven’s blast of light? Why was everything so white?

“Cas,” he heard Dean’s voice say again. “C’mon, buddy. That’s it. Open those eyes for me.”

Castiel shifted around, feeling a light tap on his face. His vision at last began to focus, and he could see the outline of a face. Not just any face, but the face he had memorized by heart. But it couldn’t be real.

“D – Dean?”

“Holy shit, Sammy, it’s really him. He’s here,” he heard Dean’s excited voice say before his face reappeared in Castiel’s vision. “Hey, Cas. It’s me. It’s Dean. C’mon, man, sit up.”

There was a tug on Cas’s arm and the angel slowly sat up as Dean requested. His vision finally focused, and he could see that he was in a brightly lit hallway that seemed to stretch on forever. Doors lined both sides and Castiel recognized it as part of Heaven. But that couldn’t be right. Heaven was corrupt. It was destroyed. How was he here? In front of him, Dean was kneeling with a wide grin. The man was wearing his blue jeans, green shirt, brown leather jacket, and necklace as always. His oak hair was spiked, his face was warm, and his emerald eyes were as bright as the moon. This was not the Dean Castiel had spent three days with. This was the Dean that had perished as Michael’s vessel…

“Dean,” Castiel breathed, reaching out to touch his shoulder and make sure he was real, “No, you – you were dead.”

“Yep. Still am,” Dean replied, gesturing to the wide hallway. “Looks like you are, too. Welcome home, Cas.”

“H – home?”

“Heaven.”

Cas turned to look up at the other voice that had spoken. There, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed against his plaid-clothed chest, was Dean’s brother Sam. There was a smile on his face as he gazed down at Castiel along with Dean.

“Chuck sent us here,” Sam explained. “It’s not the same Heaven attached to our world. It’s a different one or something. All I know is that we’ve been standing out here in the hallway forever.”

“The hallway?” Castiel repeated. “Why?”

“Waiting for you, duh,” Dean smiled, reaching over to playfully shove Cas’s shoulder.

Castiel gulped, unable to look away from the sentimental expression of Dean’s young, flawless face.

“Waiting… for me?” It was all Castiel could say.

“Dean refused to go in without you,” Sam said.

“And Sam refused to go in without me,” Dean added. “So, we’ve just been waiting out here for you.”

If Cas could form tears, he would have been sobbing. But he found himself incapable of doing anything but smiling and staring at Dean. All of the hardships Castiel endured over the years had not been for nothing. He was finally rewarded with this perfect afterlife… Sam stood up from the wall and gestured to the door beside him.

“So can we go in now or what, Dean? My feet are killing me,” the tall man muttered.

“Yeah, right. You’re already dead, Sammy. Stop complaining,” Dean winked. He got to his feet and reached out a hand to Cas. “Let’s go, Cas. Pretty sure there’s an Impala on the other side with an eternity of road-side diners calling our names.”

Castiel immediately slid his hand into Dean’s and allowed himself to be helped up. Part of him had questions about why he was there, if an angel could join Dean and Sam, if Dean knew about everything that happened since his death – but they all became unimportant. All that mattered was that he got to spent eternity with his favorite human.

Sam opened the door and held it for Dean and Castiel, but Dean hesitated. He turned to Cas, putting his back directly toward Sam so that he could talk in semi-privacy.

“Wait. I’ve gotta tell you something before we go in,” Dean almost whispered, raising his sight to the angel before him. “Cas… I, um… I… Well, I – ”

“Oh, just say it already,” Sam groaned.

“Shut up, Sammy! I can do this on my own!” Dean grumbled toward his brother before spinning back around and clearing his throat. “Cas… I love you.”

Castiel felt as though he was falling while standing completely still. His stomach was light, his heart was swollen, and his face was open with a wide smile. This truly was Heaven…

“I love you too, Dean,” Cas breathed.

“See? I told you,” Sam interrupted again. “I knew the whole time. Now, can we go? I want to get started on that pile of books in there.”

“Geez, Sam, you are such a nerd,” Dean huffed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Sam smiled in delight before heading into the room first. Dean held the door but paused to offer his hand to Castiel again. Overcome with joy, Castiel slid his hand back inside Dean’s, where it belonged, and allowed the man to guide him into their Heaven. Dean kissed Cas’s knuckles as he went, making the angel’s stomach flutter.

“Glad you’re finally home with me, Cas,” Dean whispered along the way.

“So am I, Dean,” Cas replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …Fin. ;) If there was a moral to this story, I guess it would be that love really is the strongest force in the universe. (In every universe, especially when it comes to Dean and Cas. lol.) ;D I know it’s not mentioned in the fic, but Gabriel totally killed Asmodeus. Gabe, Sam, and Cas took Asmodeus to the bunker, tortured him until he spilled the beans about where the portal led, and then Gabriel smote his ass. ;) Also, the ‘Enochian’ Cas speaks in this chapter is actually Latin (because Enochian online translators suck) “Amica Mea” translates to “My love.” ;) (At least, according to Google it does. Lol) ;D The king slipped the bible into Dean’s pocket in chapter 7, when he helped him off the floor after the demon attack. That’s my head canon, anyway. ;) I know this story was grim, gory, and sad at times, but I hope the happy ending made it all worth the read. And I appreciate you guys indulging my darker stuff as well as the happy smutty stuff. I love you guys more than words could say. :’)
> 
> I have no idea what I’m going to do next, to be honest. I have no plans, no ideas, no muses. But if anything comes to me, you all will be the first to know. ;) Again, I can’t say this enough, _Thank you_ for reading and commenting on my stories. You guys have given me something to look forward to in a time when I feel like there’s a bleek future ahead. Your sweet comments give me hope, and remind me that there is more to life than just earning money, paying bills, and dying. If it wasn’t for you all, I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now. Thank you for keeping me on this Earth. I owe you everything. :) Love you guys! I hope to hear from you again soon! :)


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